


Burned

by honestgrins



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-ish, F/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24780316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestgrins/pseuds/honestgrins
Summary: Chained up in the Lockwood cellar as a sacrifice, Caroline is less than thrilled to find that her soulmate is the ancient vampire out to kill them all. Klaus has always assumed his mate long-dead, and now is not the time for surprises. But the truth remains undeniable - they're burned into each other for the rest of their immortal lives.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 155
Kudos: 401





	1. Out of the Frying Pan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angelikah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelikah/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Angie! This is an expanded fic based on the "Burned" series of mini-drabbles I wrote based on an anonymous prompt: Klaus and Caroline au soulmate meeting before the ritual. Disclaimer: I own nothing but worn-out earbuds blasting Bat Out of Hell: The Musical, the soundtrack of which inspired the chapter titles.

“Hello, love.”

Caroline looked up, terrified to note that Tyler still hung limp in his chains. Luckily, the guy strolling down the stone steps and the young woman following him hadn’t glanced her way yet. She shrunk back against the wall as she felt the danger rolling off of them.

The guy knelt down in front of Tyler, gently lifting his head and patting a cheek. “Come on, little wolf, time to wake up. Curses won’t break themselves, I’m afraid.”

While Tyler slowly lolled to life, the woman moved over to where Caroline was bound. Though still new to the whole supernatural life, she could sense the barely restrained magic. “You’re a witch,” she accused, her voice hoarse from yelling for help.

“And you’re going to die,” the witch answered blithely. She reached for her chin, but Caroline was quick to bare fang, smirking when the girl jumped back.

Unfortunately, this caught the man’s attention. If she felt the power on the witch, there was something far more potent coming from him. He grinned down at her, tracing a soft finger over the veins beneath her eyes. “Aren’t you pretty?”

She fought hard against the instinctive gasp, forced herself to remain still against the icy burn of the words splayed across her ribs. No, no no no. It couldn’t be-

Biting her tongue _hard_ , she wouldn’t let him know. She couldn’t. Talking about curses, hoarding people as ingredients, this could only be Klaus. _The_ Klaus. The guy was evil, totally, completely. He had no business, _none_ whatsoever, being the soulmate she’d dreamed about for years.

Someone who would truly, for once and forever, be only hers.

And Caroline refused to give this Klaus the satisfaction of being his, not when he seemed determined to kill her and her friends.

_No_.

But he was looking at her funny, pushing the witch back toward Tyler. “Take care of our friend, love. Leave this one to me.”

She fought against the chains as he reached toward her. It was futile, apparently, because she could tell he was stronger than Damon or Stefan would ever hope to be.

Easily snapping the manacles from her wrists, he had the gall to smile as he pulled her to her feet. “You must be Caroline.”

Still, she wouldn’t speak. She didn’t see any words on his skin, but she refused to chance it. But then the witch held out a hand toward Tyler, who managed to tackle her before whatever spell she tried to cast could take hold. Klaus nearly broke her wrist in a stranglehold while going for him with full fangs on display, and she couldn’t stop herself from snapping, “Don’t you _dare_ hurt him.”

The words were instinctual and effective if Klaus’s reaction meant anything. Like he’d been hit, he stared at her with venom and surprise. When she’d been a vampire ready for sacrifice, he’d looked at her like she was a toy to be carved apart for fun.

Now…now, he just stared.

* * *

_Don’t you dare hurt him._

The runes inscribed on his shoulder blade left some room for interpretation, which turned into something of a pastime for Rebekah. She wasted many an afternoon over the centuries wondering what her intended might say that finally brought her the joy of a soulmate bond.

As the world progressed, however, the phenomenon of true mates finding each other became all too rare and unimportant. Words were just words, in the end, a silly dream to smile about. A thousand years of assuming his human mate had long since died left him drained of any vestige of sentiment for the idea, and Klaus had no patience for dreaming of impossibilities when the reality of breaking his curse was so near at hand.

Except, the pretty little vampire before him appeared perfectly real to him, her wrist very much in his hand already.

_Don’t you dare hurt him._

He might not have taken heed of her words had a sharp sensation of ice not dug into his shoulder, carving out the runes he rarely thought of until they burned into his awareness. His grip unknowingly tightened until the girl released a pained gasp, but like hell was he going to let her slip free. “Apologies,” he murmured, gently moving his hand up to her elbow instead.

Though she glared, Caroline’s eyes still tracked the glide of his skin against hers, her fangs poking into her bottom lip. He felt an overwhelming urge to tug her closer, made primal when she easily stepped forward at the barest touch.

“Care!”

_Don’t you dare hurt him._

Holding back a growl, Klaus forced himself not to attack the wolf for the claim his little mate had made. “Greta.” The witch tried her containment spell again, this time successfully binding the wolf with invisible ties. “Chain him back.”

“But-”

“And when you’re finished, go to Maddox. Help him execute Plan B.” His tone brooked no argument, though Greta had grown too comfortable in his preference. Even now, he could tell she wanted to challenge his command, but she did as he needed and made her way out of the small dungeon.

The wolf struggled loudly with his chains, his heart pounding with the effort. “Leave her alone.”

A crushing wave of possessiveness brought forth Klaus’s fangs, and he finally tore his gaze from Caroline - only for her to pull him back, her hand tangling in his necklaces to hold him close.

_Don’t you dare hurt him._

“I’ll run,” she warned, her voice low. “Hurt my friends, and you’ll never see me again.”

She was a brave one, his mate. Laying a gentle hand on her cheek, he couldn’t resist a soft stroke over her lips with his thumb. Bravery would get her killed in the wrong hands. “We’ll see, sweetheart,” he said in a reassuring tone.

Then, he snapped her neck and swung her into his arms. Klaus relished the horror in the young wolf’s expression. “I hope one of your friends thinks to look for you when this is all over.” Caroline’s head rolled to rest over his heart, and he just barely resisted a fond glance down. “I’d like to humor her from time to time, no reason not to start now.”

Before the boy could answer, Klaus sped out of the cellar. He needed to find his mate a safe place for her incapacitated state, preferably one she couldn’t escape should she wake early. It was a simple enough problem to solve, and quickly; the moon was already rising. The obvious solution was hardly ideal, yet he found himself speeding to the teacher’s flat where he left a certain thorn in his side to rot.

He could feel Katerina’s eyes following his every move when he arrived, but Klaus did nothing to cover the gentle way he arranged Caroline on the bed. Careful to prop her head at a comfortable angle, he brushed her hair back from her face. If he didn’t know better, she might only be sleeping for how peaceful she seemed.

Unfortunately, her broken neck would heal too quickly for him to smooth over the fact that it was broken by his own hand. He could apologize when his curse was finally broken, a feat he'd spent a thousand years working to achieve. Having found his soulmate in the midst of it all was a complication even he hadn't foreseen, but there would be time for that _after_ his wolf was free.

The timing was suspicious, of course. Pretty little Caroline, a baby vampire turned in the area of his own making, turned out to be the mate he never dreamed he had, to be found just as he was about to unleash his full power. It was all too convenient.

Taking an extra moment to toy with the ends of her hair, a strange ache pulled at his lungs as his eyes roved over her. Where were his words carved into her skin, he wondered, some fierce need to confirm the claim searing through his bones. For one who'd written off the idea his soul was calling out for another, the thought wasn't so ridiculous to him anymore, not when she lay right before him. Still, he had things to do and needed time to understand the implications of this latest development lest he get carried away and lose sight of the endgame.

Doubt trickled along the edges of his mind, cold as it mingled with the fear Mikael had managed to slip past his defenses to plant the perfect distraction. Steeling himself, however, Klaus preferred to focus on the victory within his grasp.

Turning to face Katerina, he smiled all too pleasantly. “Since I can’t compel her to stay here, you should know I’d be very angry to find that she left in my absence.” His hand reached for her shoulder, roughly pulling her forward and making her meet his intent gaze. “You will do what it takes to keep Caroline in this apartment, short of inflicting long-term damage time her person. Snap her neck, if need be, but I want her whole when I return. Understood?”

The doppelgänger hadn’t improved her acting skills over the years, but he took her pallid recitation of his instructions as confirmation enough that she’d play along. It would have to do, despite the growling anger he felt at needing to leave his mate for an undetermined length of time, let alone with Katerina of all people. There was nothing to be done, however, except to make sure the separation ended with a successful result.

As he made his way back to the clearing where Greta was holding the sacrificial lambs, he felt all but certain that his plans would fall into place - even those newly formed around this unexpected attachment.

* * *

Gasping back to life, Caroline struggled to align her senses, overactive and too sensitive for her to properly take in her surroundings. If kidnapping was going to be a common thing, she thought, she should really work on her situational awareness. Her whole body hurt, and her fangs itched for blood. While she didn’t recognize the apartment, it smelled familiar, which helped to put her at ease - until she realized that she wasn’t alone. “Elena?”

The wicked smirk was enough to prove her wrong. “Try again, babycakes.”

She groaned, her hand massaging her aching neck as she sat up, only to find Katherine watching her with a calculating curiosity. Looking around, she finally placed the scent as Alaric’s and figured this must be the loft he’d all but abandoned in favor of the Gilbert house. “Why are we here?” Something rose in the back of her mind, if only she could focus on anything other than the fierce hunger clawing at her throat.

Katherine shrugged. “When Klaus kicked dear old Ric out of his body, he took his place in more ways than one. I’m more interested in why the big, bad hybrid wants to make sure you’re in one piece.”

_Klaus_. The pieces in her mind finally slammed together, and she shook with a sudden wave of dizziness. Her side burned with the certainty that she’d found her mate, only to be paired with the equivalent of hell on earth. But she also knew better than to give the doppelgänger any information that could leave her in worse danger. “I’m surprised he hasn’t killed you yet,” she bit back, her hands pressed to her temples. What little blood was in her system seemed to pound in her head, thick and painful. She just wanted it to stop, all of it.

“He will if you run,” Katherine pointed out, not having budged from her bored recline on the couch. “Again, interesting. You’re cute and all, but hardly anything special.”

Bitterness gathered in her mouth at the thought she preferred the simpler problem of being chained in the Lockwood cellar, about to die. Now, she had to deal with the fact that the guy prepared to kill her was her _soulmate_. And to think, she always hoped to be one of the few to find their other half. It seemed like a cruel joke. “I’m not special,” she answered quietly. _Just cursed_ , she mourned to herself.

Growing up, she would trace the faint lines of the words until she could follow the script without looking. But she spent more than her fair share of looking at them, too, hours in front of the mirror with her shirt hiked up.

_aren’t you pretty_

They were a comfort in the worst of middle school when gawky limbs and braces left her feeling clumsy and the furthest thing from pretty. Somewhere out the world, someone existed that would see her and think her pretty. As high school brought boobs and boys, she realized it was probably a lame come-on, but it’d probably sound romantic coming from the right person if she found them. That was what she held onto, anyway, near desperately when she began to notice all those boys passing right by her to get to Elena. She might have Matt now, but he’d drop her in a second to get another chance with his first love. One day, she could have a soulmate that saw only her.

And it turned out to be someone as obsessed with that face, just like everyone else.

It didn’t help that Matt had been pulling away from her recently, though it was a moot point, she supposed. He was probably meant to find a sweet girl, able to give him everything he wanted without thirsting for his blood.

Blood, she needed blood. Her tongue ran over her fangs, wanting to ignore the bitch who killed her; but, Katherine seemed suspiciously well for a captive. Hauling herself up, she trudged to the fridge, where she found two blood bags, beer, and not much else. “Men,” she muttered, taking the bags and leaving the beer. Drinking didn’t sound like a bad idea, but she would definitely need something stronger.

The entire Salvatore liquor cabinet wouldn’t be enough, she was sure.

As though on cue, Katherine appeared in front of her, head canted to the side. “You were supposed to be the vampire sacrifice,” she said. “I turned you specifically to make sure there was another option in case my negotiation didn’t work out.”

“Thanks for that.”

Her angry sarcasm was brushed off. “Why doesn’t he want to use you?”

Caroline licked a stray drop from her lips, hesitant to answer. Without permission, her hand strayed to the sore spot over her ribs. “He does, just not for that.” For what, she had yet to figure out, but it couldn’t be good. “Why are you still here?”

Rolling her eyes, Katherine crossed her arms with a petulant pout. “Klaus compelled me to stay.”

In the span of a heartbeat, she nodded - realizing she hadn’t been compelled, thank god - and made a break for the door, only to come to a screaming stop from the firm grip on her hair. “Bitch!”

“Again, he’ll kill me if you leave. When he asks, remember that I tried to play nice.” Before Caroline could ask what the hell she was talking about, Katherine had already gripped her jaw and twisted to the right.

Her last conscious thought was that this whole mate business was more trouble than it was worth.


	2. And Into the Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an expanded fic based on the "Burned" series of mini-drabbles I wrote based on an anonymous prompt: Klaus and Caroline au soulmate meeting before the ritual. Disclaimer: I own nothing but worn-out earbuds blasting Bat Out of Hell: The Musical, the soundtrack of which inspired the chapter titles.

When Caroline awoke again, she didn’t waste a moment trying to take in her surroundings. Arm outstretched, she shoved Katherine against a wall, her nails digging into her throat. The doppelgänger just smirked, lifting her chin with a twisted sense of victory about her.

“Caroline!” Familiar arms were pulling her back, the shock of them the only reason she didn’t fight as hard as she could have. Frantic and snarling, she forced herself to take deep breaths as Stefan turned her to face him. His hands cupped her face, but she jerked back, unable to comforted after having her neck snapped twice now. He held out his palms like she was a rabid animal, not that she felt particularly more sane at the moment. “It’s just me,” he promised. “You’re okay.”

An ugly laugh ripped through her, and she knew she must sound unhinged. Maybe she  _ was _ unhinged because she was the furthest thing from okay. Her fingers tore through her hair, hands shaking ever so slightly. When she finally got ahold of herself, she braved a glance up to look at her friend. His eyes were sad these days anyway, but the sheer defeat in his expression scared her. "What's wrong? What are you doing here?"

He shook his head, grave as ever. "What are  _ you _ doing here? No one's seen you since before Tyler turned. It's been two days."

"Since Tyler..." They had been locked in the cellar the night of the full moon, and if they weren't sacrificed, he must have had to shift into his wolf while Klaus broke his curse.  _ He had a Plan B _ , she remembered, horror dawning on her. "Stefan, what happened?"

His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. "He killed Jules, from Mason Lockwood's old pack." It was hard to feel bad about that one, not when the wolf pack in question kidnapped and tortured her. That cage still haunted her nightmares, second only to the cold blue of Damon's eyes dilating. "And Jenna."

Caroline jolted in surprise, her breath starting to come in shallow pants as she connected the dots. There were only so many sacrifices lined up. "He turned her," she realized. "She died as a vampire instead of me." Her arms folded tightly across her stomach, and she fought the urge to sink into a miserable puddle on the floor. She was already crying when she asked for the inevitable conclusion. "Elena?"

Tears welled in his eyes, but he nodded. When that only made her cry harder, he pulled her into a hug. He kept his voice low as she clutched at his back, and it felt like a warning. “We need to talk about everything that happened. Not here.”

Confusion and anger roiled in her gut, and she remembered they weren’t alone. She turned a glare on Katherine, who was watching them with a glare of her own. 

“Rebounding already, Stefan? I thought I’d be the obvious choice.” Her hair spilled down her side as she gave an alluring pout. When her eyes flicked to Caroline, though, they were hard with a cold rage. “She’s too sweet for you, not that Klaus seems put off by it.”

Of course, that was what had Stefan pulling back from her, frowning down at her suddenly stiff posture. “What is she talking about?” Suspicion bled into his expression, which left her frozen in a panic. She could feel his hands curling around her arms, the grip too firm to do anything but stand still while she waited for him to decide whether she was a friend or yet another unknown danger. “Caroline?”

Her lashes fluttered. “I don’t-” What could she say, she wondered, that wouldn’t leave her to face the truth all by herself. It was selfish and small, but she was terrified that Stefan and everyone else would turn their backs on her when they discovered she was bound by fate to Elena’s murderer. Her body clenched in pain at the reality of the situation; Elena and Jenna were dead at the hand of her soulmate. “I don’t  _ want _ this,” she insisted, shaking her head as tears flooded down her cheeks anew. “Klaus is...”

When she broke off, overcome, Stefan’s suspicion faded to concern. His hands turned comforting, brushing her hair back as he exaggerated his breaths for her to match. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he promised, and - just for a moment - she let herself believe him.

“It’s not her I’d worry about,  _ mate _ .”

* * *

He had never felt so free. For the last two days, the moon bound him no more than his mother could anymore, and he relished in the thrill of the hunt as he grew used to the agile strength of his new form. The blood lingered in his mouth, leaving him salivating for more. His hunger was only set aside for an unexpectedly greater desire for the brave little vampire he had left vulnerable in the care of an enemy. With need bone-deep and clawing throughout his being, Klaus forced himself to play nice with Elijah, making the disingenuous promise to reunite him with their siblings in order to hurry things along.

Caroline was waiting.

But when he finally let himself into the teacher's loft, expecting to find her livid and focused entirely on him, there was unwelcome sight waiting for him instead.

Stefan Salvatore, who'd selflessly offered his life to allow his precious Elena the comfort of knowing her family would be safe, was instead comforting  _ his _ Caroline with too comfortable hands. He felt the fierce urge to remove them by any means necessary. Rage bristled under his skin, though it mingled with relief; she hadn't run.  _ Not yet _ , he sourly noted to himself. For such a triumphant morning, the day was turning into a grave disappointment. 

"I won't let him hurt you," the boy had sworn. Klaus would have laughed if he were in a more generous mood, eager to renew the bond they once held in the 1920s and more willing to wear down the moral fiber Stefan seemed to develop since then. That generosity drained away quickly, along with his patience, the longer the embrace went on.

"It's not her I'd worry about,  _ mate _ ," he said. His voice sounded almost pleasant, and he could feel Elijah’s disconcerted shift behind him. 

Stefan seemed to take the hint as well, though he gave a confused frown when he met his gaze, slightly pulling back from the hug. For her part, Caroline tightened her grip and glowered at him with a wildfire of anger. She was a vision.

Then, he saw the raw redness of her eyes - not from blood, but crying.

His wolf wanted to lurch forward, and Klaus barely held back with fists tight at his side. The situation was precarious enough had he been given the chance to explain his actions. Clearly, she heard the story through a different lens, and one that cast him in an unflattering light, no doubt. He was more concerned at the pallid grey of her complexion, though, grateful it would be more easily remedied. "Have you fed, sweetheart?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped. His eyes narrowed in on the curl of her fists in Stefan's shirt. It was almost as if she was holding herself back from  _ him _ , he noted. She wasn't so unaffected by their connection after all. Idly, he wondered if she'd been able to sense his wolf as strongly as the wolf seemed honed in on her. "You killed my friends."

"Caroline," Stefan interrupted, watching the two of them with growing unease. But when he looked to Klaus, he seemed particularly careful of masking his true feelings. "What's done is done, and we still need him."

While the other heads in the room snapped toward him, Klaus couldn't quite bring himself to tear his gaze from the pout of Caroline's lips. The pout sagged into a frown as her brow scrunched up, and he wished he had a pencil handy. She'd look lovely in oils, he thought, once he ripped her away from the upstart still holding her too close. "I'm not inclined to grant you any favors at the moment," he said, finally sliding his eyes to Stefan. "Please, change my mind."

She was shaking her head, shifting her stance to block easy access to her friend. Much like in the cellar, he admired the bravery, if not the poor decision it would prove to be should he feel provoked to attack anyway. "You  _ killed _ my  _ friends _ ," she repeated. Crossing her arms did nothing to hide the slight tremble of her frame, not from him. 

With a new focus on his reaction, Stefan placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and stood tall behind her. Klaus fought to keep his expression neutral, everything in him snarling to take his mate away from this unexpected rival for her affection. Perhaps it wasn't romantic, but there was a shared history he didn't know - and he didn't like that one bit. Worse, Stefan appeared confident of his place in her life. That would make things more difficult should his plan not go as he wished. "When you released Tyler from the sacrifice, he turned and bit Damon."

Caroline faltered in her anger. He read the surprise easily as it crossed her face, but something else caught his attention. Not quite relief, and hardly regretful of a friend being in mortal danger. His best guess was akin to vindication; Damon Salvatore apparently deserved a painful death by her measure.

_ Why? _

"My brother is dying, but the witches think you know of a cure," Stefan continued, openly pleading with him. "Do you?"

He couldn’t help a smug twist of his mouth. “I do.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, and he so relished the way they hung on his every word. Klaus wasn’t sure who would break the moment first, but he found himself disappointed when Stefan was the one to prod. “And?”

His little mate was quick to pile on, however, and more clever by half. “What do you want?” Caroline asked, her expression puckered like she smelled something foul. 

Smirking, he gave her his full attention. “What are you prepared to offer, love?”

“Stop that.” Oh, but that fierce snarl of hers wasn’t the way to get him to stop, not when her whole body lit up at the challenge he posed for her. He could point out that casual endearments were just a habit borne of too many minions to remember by name; no need to ruin an excellent game. “And don’t pretend like there isn’t an endgame in mind. Just cut the crap and get it over with.”

“Caroline!” Stefan rushed to step between them, just as Katerina moved to block  _ him _ . 

Through it all, Klaus and Caroline never wavered in their silent match of wills despite their concerned and confused audience. “Perhaps I could be persuaded to share what I know,” he eventually said, looking to Stefan, “if you agree to join me in the hunt for werewolf packs. You’ve dealt with one, yes?”

Stefan glanced behind him to where Caroline stood, uncomfortably rigid as her eyes lost focus. “I have,” he answered, apology clear in his tone. “For the cure, and a promise to leave Mystic Falls safe, I’ll go with you.”

It was a fair enough arrangement. But when he started to nod, Caroline appeared to deflate. “Take me instead,” she whispered, blushing when the others all looked at her in surprise. 

He licked his lips, wishing this conversation afforded them more privacy from his brother and the doppelgänger. Even Stefan would know too much, but that was bound to happen anyway over the course of their journey. Still, he tried to break it to her gently, an odd instinct he ascribed to the mate bond. “You’re already coming with me, sweetheart.”

“Niklaus-”

Holding a hand up to Elijah, Klaus refused to look away from her. “At least,” he hedged, “until we adjust to our new circumstances.”

Stefan’s head was bouncing between them, his frown deepening with each pass. “I don’t understand. What new circumstances?”

“You have your promise,” Klaus said, his voice firm and decisive. “Mystic Falls will be safe from me once we leave, and I’ll tell you all I know about the cure for your brother.”

A snort sounded from the edge of the room. “You have it, don’t you?” Katerina accused. “And you’re going to force another concession to part with it.”

His smile felt genuine, and Klaus realized it was. He was  _ thrilled _ . “Care to demonstrate its effectiveness?” Fangs sliding out, he flashed to the doppelgänger and sank them deep into her neck. His eyes, though, found Caroline. When he pulled back, he was pleased to see her avidly watching the blood drip from his lips. She wasn’t as indifferent to him as she’d like to be, that was clear.

Elijah made to catch her, but Katerina curled into herself and pushed her back to the nearest wall. She glared at him venomously, a poor attempt to conceal her fear as the poison quickly festered the wounds he left. “It’s your blood,” she realized.

“Heal her,” Elijah insisted. “You’ve made your point.”

Shrugging, Klaus moved to the kitchen and found a glass. With his fangs still free, he met Caroline’s eyes again as he bit into his own wrist. He let the blood drip into the cup, losing track of time as her gaze darkened with hunger. It was half full before his skin healed, and he carelessly let Elijah snatch the glass away. “Try to save some for poor Damon."

Both women scoffed, but Katerina eagerly sucked at the blood, ignoring Stefan’s pained grimace. When she stopped, she elbowed Elijah away from her. “I’m fine,” she muttered, fixing her hair as she stood. Her hand lifted to the already faded bite, as though to inspect it for further signs of impending doom. “I am fine,” she said with more confidence, a note of shock in her voice.

"You're welcome." Offended at the lack of appreciation - the healing properties of his hybrid blood were miraculous and worthy of praise - he nodded toward the door. "Hurry up," he told Katerina. "Damon must be hallucinating by now."

She was gone before Stefan could protest. "How will I know Damon is safe? She's probably halfway to the nearest airport by now."

Klaus nodded in understanding, though he nearly gave up the game at the comforting hand Caroline placed on the young hero's shoulder. "Katerina never gives up her toys, even those she threw away. She and I have that in common." They both froze, tentatively glancing at each other. Oh, he didn't like that, which put him in a mean mood. "See, Stefan, I don't actually want you to come along with me."

"Then let him leave," Caroline said as though it were the obvious solution. "You already have one hostage, remember?"

"I don't want Stefan," he continued with a pert arch of his brow, daring her to challenge him and hoping she would, "because I prefer the Ripper."

* * *

_ The Ripper _ . She could feel Stefan tense next to her, no doubt remembering the carnage his darker self had wrought in the past. Though he warned her about the temptation of bloodlust when she was first turned, he had always assured her that she wouldn't become a ripper. That urge for senseless violence lingered beneath the skin of all vampires, but a ripper never knew when to stop, let alone cared to try.

And Caroline's mate wanted her friend to fall back into those bad habits because he preferred the monster to the man. "Wait," she said, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Looking toward Stefan, she didn't like how blank he kept his face. "I thought your ripper days were, like, a hundred years ago. Do you two already know each other?"

Much to her relief, he shook his head, but she didn't miss the intent way Klaus was watching them. She crossed her arms in discomfort, just knowing he was biting back pertinent information. Before she could call him out on it, though, the other vampire she'd all but forgotten about cleared his throat.

"Niklaus," he said, stepping away from the edge of the room where he'd been lurking. "Perhaps we ought to leave Mystic Falls and its inhabitants behind altogether, let us focus on reuniting our family."

She realized it must be Elijah, the Original vampire she'd never met, but threw all their lives into disarray by trying to ruin his brother's chances at breaking the hybrid curse. A visceral tug of dislike left her wanting to snarl when he laid a heavy hand on Klaus's shoulder, and she made herself blame the soulmate bond for letting his emotions overpower her own.

"Our family," Klaus sighed, and her eyes rolled at the theatrics. His hand twitched to scratch at his back as he turned to face Elijah, a regretful frown pulling at his lips. "Yes, I promised you a reunion...of sorts." Time seemed to slow from the point he retrieved the dagger from his belt to sinking it deep into his brother's chest. Holding the hilt firm over his heart, Klaus cradled his head before he hit the floor, betrayal burning in his eyes. "Don't worry, your coffin will be the grandest."

Her heart dropped, the sinking sensation nearly making her sick with horror as black veins crept over the supposedly indestructible vampire's graying skin. If the violent image was difficult to process, the implications left her dizzy. Klaus just killed his own brother, apparently like he killed his family.

_ What the hell will he do to me? _

Like he heard her internal panic, Klaus perked his head up, but he kept his eyes on Elijah's desiccating corpse. "You're safe with me, love."

Time then seemed to speed up to an impossible rate, even for them, because too many things happened at once. In a blink, Stefan had shoved her out of the loft, then Klaus had his hand deep into Stefan's chest. Half of her wanted to run, to thank Stefan for distracting him long enough for her to escape - at least for a while. It would be stupid to think the hybrid would leave her be now that he’d found her. The other half, though, made her launch herself onto his back, her hands surrounding his jaw in a threat. There was a small chance she could manage to snap his neck before he pulled her off him, but she couldn't risk him taking the heart in his fist with him. 

Klaus clearly noticed her hesitation, and he snorted; they both knew what she was going to say, her palm grating against his stubble on instinct. "Don't you dare hurt him either," she said, almost gentle despite their position.

Another blink, another too fast moment that landed with her back to the wall and Klaus's bloody thumb brushing over her lips. His other hand slipped into her back pocket, holding their lower halves together in the most maddening fashion. 

Keeping her breaths slow and even, she forced her vampire face to fade away, near panting with sheer hunger for him. He smirked at the flick of her tongue to catch a taste of the blood he left on the corner of her mouth, only to lose any amusement when she caught a bit of his skin, too. "Aren't you pretty?" he taunted, goading her to deny their connection even as the words still burned along her side. "My mate."

Caroline glared at him, her chest heaving at the undivided attention he paid her in return. The intensity of his gaze was a heady thing, as was the darkening pink of his lips, and she nearly forgot they weren't alone. 

"Your  _ what _ ?"


	3. Dead Ringer for Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an expanded fic based on the "Burned" series of mini-drabbles I wrote based on an anonymous prompt: Klaus and Caroline au soulmate meeting before the ritual. Disclaimer: I own nothing but worn-out earbuds blasting Bat Out of Hell: The Musical, the soundtrack of which inspired the chapter titles.

Against his character, Klaus remained silent in the face of Stefan’s incredulity. Instead, he allowed Caroline to explain their little accident of fate, though she didn’t seem to have the faintest idea of how to start.

She swallowed, her hands twitching where they rest on his arms. “Let me go,” she urged, gently pushing him back from the wall he’d pinned her against.

_Never_ , he wanted to swear. The need to keep her in his grasp overwhelmed his whole being, especially since she’s proven herself willing to run from him - from _them_. The thought of her denial punched him straight into the gut, leaving him breathless and bewilderingly angry.

Then she squeezed his shoulder, her fingers brushing the runes that lit awareness attuned only to her. With the slightest tinge of apology, she slipped past him to walk toward Stefan, who was staring at her like he had never seen her before. As much as Klaus wanted to protect her, Caroline had to reconcile her old life with their future on her own terms.

“His what?” Stefan asked again, this time directing the question to her. Having moved past the initial confusion, he appeared to settle on the dreadful heroics. “You can’t be...”

“I think I am,” she answered, flinching when he couldn’t stifle the growl at her voicing any doubt. “He said the words, Stefan. I can _feel_ them.”

A thrill of pride shot through him, and all he wanted at that moment was to strip her bare and find exactly what she meant. Considering the way his runes still burned at her barest touch, he thought he might understand all too well. Of course, he needed no convincing.

The boy was proving to be another story. "It's impossible," Stefan insisted, his eyes flicking between them at a rapid pace. "Do you know how rare soulmates are in this day and age, Caroline? Think about it. And a thousand-year-old vampire at that?"

Klaus licked his lips, itching for a bite. "Hybrid," he corrected. "Can't forget the wolf, now."

"Now that you killed Elena, you mean," Stefan bit back. Enraged, he turned a sharp glare onto Caroline. "He murdered your best friend."

Though her eyes reddened and she crossed her arms tightly over her waist, she would not cower. Klaus grinned at her straight posture, the sharp angle of her chin as she looked up. "I know," she answered, none of that confidence in her voice. No, she sounded sad - bereft. His grin dropped. "That doesn't make it not true. I found my soulmate, who was on his way to kill me, too. Don't think I don't get the cruel joke this all is, Stefan."

"Is that what you think of me?" The question slipped from his lips without permission, soft but deadly. He was not a joke, though admittedly cruel at times, and he would not be treated as such. Not by anyone; not by _her_. "By my estimation, it's far more suspect that I found you at this critical juncture of my life."

Caroline hadn't been looking at him, her body was turned to face Stefan and his judgmental frown. With the way the air seemed to freeze around her, however, he could tell he had all her attention. Then, she sucked in a deep breath that lifted her entire chest, still not looking at him. "Can you give us a minute?" she asked Stefan, lifting one finger with her request. "Maybe check on Damon, or something."

"I'd rather he didn't, sweetheart," Klaus interjected. "The Ripper is mine, he's already agreed. His brother seems less than amenable to such agreements."

Her rage was blinding when she finally turned to face him, eyebrows arched high on her forehead. "But _Stefan_ can keep his word, and I think you'd _rather_ he not be here for the conversation we're about to have."

Arching an eyebrow in return, Klaus felt the small, upward pull of his lips throughout his entire body. Had anyone else challenged him so baldly, their head would have been torn from their shoulders. Not Caroline, though. He found he'd do just about anything to keep that pretty, little head right where it belonged. The effect she had on him should be troubling, but he was too delighted to care. He did say he'd like to humor her when he could. "Ripper, we'll need plenty of blood for the first leg of our trip. Be a dear and fetch us a good supply. We leave in an hour."

For his part, Stefan looked torn. The sooner he was broken of the morals he displayed, the better, in Klaus's opinion. "Caroline, he's dangerous."

"I'll be fine," she asserted, not tearing her eyes from him. "He had a chance to kill me and didn't take it."

Klaus shrugged. "I'm capricious," he said, more to put Stefan on edge than to imply any danger to _her_. "But no, I won't hurt her in your absence."

Swallowing, Stefan shook his head. "That's not reassuring." But he must have taken it as truth because he slowly moved toward the door.

With a sudden gasp, Caroline finally turned to her friend. "Can you check on my mom? I don't know what story she'd buy that isn't a kidnapping, but I don't want her to worry."

"Sure," he promised, giving Klaus one last, apprehensive look before he sped away. "Be careful," he had said, the words still floating between them as they were left alone.

Blissfully alone.

He allowed her a moment to let the realization sink in, then he flashed to stand before her, their noses scant inches apart. How tough, she barely blinked. "Tell me, love," he murmured softly. "What kind of cruel joke am I to you?"

A part of him expected fangs, another expected sheer hysterics from fear. But Caroline must have been determined to defy his expectations at every turn because she just stared at him with an even, guileless gaze. The only sign of hesitation she gave away was in the downward twitch of her mouth. "Are you going to kill me?" She was dead serious in asking, yet made no move to run or defend herself.

The question had been posed to him countless times over the centuries, from humans sunk to their knees or traitors in his ranks. Witches were a willful sort, and they often used it as an opening salvo if he darkened their door, setting a ground floor to negotiate some guarantee of their safety upon performing whatever magic he required. Once, Kol had drunk enough liquor to kill a dozen men, the disoriented look in his eyes ruining the effect of his grave expression when he finally asked it.

Klaus preferred to answer such insolence with a bloody smile, though witches were growing more difficult to come by. Depending on his mood, some victims had a chance to amuse him, and he'd send them running for their lives; sometimes, he gave them precious weeks before finally tracking them down. His own brother had seemed resigned to the possibility their family was expendable to him.

As Caroline stood before him, he realized anyone who'd asked him such a question had already convinced themselves of the answer, one way or the other. Tears of terror or an overconfident bluster, no one expected him to give a thoughtful response that managed to surprise them both. Yet, he found himself frowning at the stubborn way she waited for him to decide her fate.

What a strange mate he had.

"I ought to," he admitted softly. "If you're somehow not a mere trick to ruin my plans, then you're a liability I can't afford."

Crossing her arms again, her stance turned defiant. "Well, make up your mind, because I won't put up with your veiled threats and constant suspicion. I'm either your soulmate or your hostage. Which will it be?"

His shoulder flamed at the claim she staked against him, even angrily thrown at him in an ultimatum. She was only using their bond to assure her safety, and a part of him resented that she felt it necessary. A smaller part of him could admit it was a wise strategy, and he felt a bit grateful she had a good sense of self-preservation. That survival instinct would serve them well, especially once he exposed her to the wider, supernatural world. With the way she clutched her side, he wondered if her words were smarting as well and that was where they lay.

Everything in him wanted desperately to find out, but there would be time for that later.

Smirking, Klaus leaned toward her, and she automatically swayed closer until their noses almost brushed. "You're my mate," he declared like it was obvious. "The Ripper is my hostage. Let's not leave him waiting, shall we?"

"Don't do this to him," she said on a whisper. With the slightest lift of her chin, their noses did brush. But it was her eyes that captivated him, wide and intent on changing his mind. "Stefan doesn't need to be a part of your game."

His hand lifted to ghost down the line of her neck, and he wondered at the steady pulse she maintained when his felt like a hummingbird in his veins. "He is the game, love, though I don't expect you to understand just yet."

And instantly, the moment was gone. Caroline pulled away, her irritated huff almost warm on his lips. "You're right, I don't understand. It's not enough for you to be some all-powerful creature of nightmares, you have to ruin the lives of everyone you meet along the way."

"Careful, sweetheart," he warned, bristling at the dismissive tone she used against him. "My intention is not to ruin your life."

Scowling, she seemed to be deciding whether or not to believe him. That expressive face of hers was becoming a fascination for him, to learn each tic of her emotional complexities as he undoubtedly challenged every belief she held to be true. Good must triumph over evil. The villain doesn't get to keep their love. A girl like her could never truly want a boy like him, not forever.

But forever was what they had. "No," he swore in that same, soft voice she brought out in him. "I intend to make your eternity so lovely that you never dream of leaving my side."

Her face scrunched, whether in disgust or confusion he couldn't tell. When she finally met his eyes again, however, it seemed more like horror. "You don't even know me," she pointed out. "I could have been anyone in the world, and you'd still only care that I have some words on my skin."

"Why else should I care?" he asked honestly. "Had you not invoked the runes on my back, I would have dragged you from that dungeon and slit your neck to break my curse. It wasn't you that changed my plans, love, but the role you were apparently born to play. The rest, I'll learn in time."

She shook her head, now refusing to look at him at all. "Fuck you," she muttered.

_In time_ , he told himself, willing himself to give her the space she needed. She would come around, provided he didn't push too far, too fast.

Unfortunately, there was one way to earn her approbation easily available to him. He sighed, resigning himself to the long game when it came to enticing the Ripper out to play. “As a sign of good faith, I suppose I could leave Stefan with his morals intact.” _For the time being_ , he added silently. “Would that be a sufficient compromise?”

“It’s a start,” she snapped. “But we’re still your hostages, so I don’t really have a choice in the matter, do I?” Klaus thought that would trigger another argument, only for her to meet him with a tired grimace. “I guess I need to pack.”

And risk letting the remains of her human life tie her down? “Apologies, love, but we’re on a tight schedule. I’m sure we’ll find a mall somewhere along the way.”

Caroline waved him away when he tried to lead her out of the loft. “Fine, but you’re paying. What’s on the itinerary?”

He did so like her practicality, it would certainly be a trait to reward as he molded her to be the mate he needed. “I promised to reunite Elijah with our siblings. It’s only fair to follow through.”

* * *

The glass was cold against her skin, the trees and fences passing by in a near blur as she stared out the window. Caroline wished she could fall asleep like she used to on road trips to her grandma's house. Bright and early, her dad would usher her into the car with a doughnut bribe, and her mom would tuck her into a thick blanket. Together, they promised she wouldn't miss a thing, that Nana would be there waiting when she opened her eyes.

But her parents didn't do anything together anymore, she had no idea when she'd see her family again, and who knew what would be waiting for her should she dare fall asleep? No, she wasn't a little girl anymore. She wasn't even human anymore; with enough blood, vampires didn't need to sleep.

Exhaustion still weighed on her, though, heavy like Klaus's gaze. She had yet to say anything since he opened the back door of a fancy SUV, offering her a hand up. Proudly ignoring his inviting palm, she couldn't make herself understand the innate urge to take it and hold on.

Stefan had been in the driver's seat with a worried look in his eye. As annoyed as she was at his first reaction to the news, guilt managed to weigh her down further. Here she was, letting the big, bad hybrid whisk her away to be his pretty, little soulmate, making her friend stand witness to whatever courting ritual Klaus tried to win her over. Yet, all she felt was relieved that she wouldn't be truly alone - not that her mate would allow such a thing.

"You're staring," she accused quietly, her throat dry. Stefan had stocked two coolers full of blood bags in the trunk, and she grew more thirsty than was wise, but she couldn't bring herself to drink any of it. As they crossed the Mystic Falls town line, everything seemed to hit her at once. She was leaving home, indefinitely. She didn't even say goodbye to her mom, her friends. Instead, she sat next to the man who murdered Elena and Jenna and who knows how many more. And he was staring. "Stop it."

Spread out across his side of the bench seat, his arm stretched enough to just reach the ends of her hair. She could feel him twine a lock around his finger. "I can't help myself, you're beautiful."

Her eyes flickered shut for a moment, only to meet Stefan's in the rear-view mirror. They both remembered a time when shallow compliments from a pretty face were plenty to lure her into the worst danger, and she saw the fear plain on his face. He wouldn't be able to save her this time, either. "Is that what you like to do? Collect pretty things?"

"I called you beautiful."

The words branded across her ribs told a different story, and she wanted to scratch through them until they were illegible. "You're avoiding the question."

All of her senses were inconveniently attuned to him. The slight pop of his lips separating, the wet drag of his tongue between them, she didn't have to look to know the tempting image he presented. _And he was_ _still_ _staring_. "There's nothing wrong with appreciating beauty," he chided. "I'm an artist, love, you can't fault me for that."

"An artis- What?" Caroline finally turned to him, confused at the abrupt deviation. "What are you talking about?"

Klaus lifted a shoulder, his posture tense despite the obvious attempt to appear relaxed. "A thousand years is plenty of time to accumulate any number of interests, and art happens to be one of mine." He glared when she shook her head, wide-eyed. "You said we don't know each other. I'd like to remedy that."

She wanted to laugh, but it really wasn't funny. "I'm already in the car, you don't have to pretend like you actually care about me."

"A fine way to start the rest of our lives," he muttered, the truth of it startling them both. Shifting in apparent discomfort, he glanced to the front of the car where Stefan pretended - poorly - not to listen. "I spent a thousand years thinking you didn't exist, Caroline. I'm as surprised as you are, but our fates are tied. Forgive me for trying to make the best of it."

"And for murdering anyone who happens to get in your way?"

"Caroline-"

Angry and exhausted, she threw up a hand in Stefan's direction without bothering to look at him. "You don't get to judge me for his evil plans, then admonish me for holding him accountable." Still glaring at Klaus, her heart pounded loudly in her ears. His jaw was clenched, and he watched her just as intently. "We _don't_ know each other. I only know that you're keeping me alive to satisfy whatever curiosity you have about the whole soulmate thing, and that it doesn't have anything to do with _me_. Playing twenty questions isn't going to magically fix that."

His brow furrowed like she was a math problem he couldn't solve - calculating. "But would it hurt?"

The car stopped before she could even begin to ponder that, let alone form an answer. Stefan was busy closing out the GPS app on his phone, and Klaus had already opened his door when she got a look at the nondescript building waiting outside. "Where are we?"

"This is a warehouse just outside of D.C. I've had some personal items shipped in, and my brother needs a safe place to think about what he's done." Klaus slammed the door shut, and the sudden quiet reminded her there was a desiccated corpse tucked into the trunk.

The desiccated corpse of his flesh and blood brother. The question struck her again, with no more comfort than before: if he could do that to his family after a millennium, what might he do to a troublesome soulmate he only just found?

"Caroline." Stefan cleared his throat, and she realized she was trembling. "I'm sorry for how I reacted earlier, this isn't your fault. We'll get you out of this, I promise."

The driver's door ripped open, and Klaus smiled down at Stefan with a full set of fangs. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Ripper. And I have no intention of letting you make off with my mate."

"Enough," she sighed, her nerves fading in favor of an agitation she associated solely with the ache on her side. Rolling her eyes, Caroline stepped out of the car and squinted up at the warehouse. "Let's just get this over with. You're not going to hurt Stefan, remember? Might as well skip the macho posturing."

"I said I'd leave his precious humanity switch alone," he clarified, "but he's not exactly minding his manners."

"Get over it, we've got more to worry about than his attitude." She moved to the trunk, lifting the hatch to see the coffin wedged tightly into the back. Hands on her hips, she tried to decide the most graceful way to get the thing out. "This is so creepy."

Smirking, Klaus sidled up next to her, his elbow brushing against her waist. "I made sure to get a high-end model for transport, which is more than I can say for the witches who brought me to Mystic Falls. Never let it be said I left my brother wanting for comfort."

"Just his freedom."

The wicked smile flattened to a terse frown, and he didn't look nearly as amused this time when she met his glare head-on. "He tried to kill me. If you come for the king, you best take his head."

Ugh, she wanted to gag. "You're a king now, seriously?"

"With a queen to match," he replied harshly.

"Well, I've already got a tiara I earned myself, so keep whatever crown you think you can offer me." Her jaw clenched, the snarl of her mouth surely ugly enough to get the Founders Council to reconsider their vote to name her Miss Mystic Falls.

Lips parted, Klaus leaned toward her with his chest heaving in irritation. "Love, you can't yet comprehend what I'm offering you. We could spend the next century together, and you'd only have the barest taste. I don't intend to give you a crown," he swore, his eyes fixed on her so completely that she thought she'd burn from the inside out. "I am going to lay the whole world at your feet."

Her pulse raced until her whole body throbbed to the beat of her heart. Regardless of the emotional blender she felt tossed into, the physical connection was too strong for her to deny him altogether. But he made it easy for her practical side to take over, and she slowly shook her head. "By taking it from everyone else," she said, "and that's not a price I'm willing to pay."

Needing a break from Klaus, she turned to Stefan with a sad shrug. "Help a girl move a body?" He braved a fake smile for her, and she found herself almost managing a smile in return. Of anyone, she trusted him to keep her grounded despite her soulmate's attempts to sweep her off her feet.

If she were honest with herself, Caroline worried she might let Klaus do just that - even knowing all the horrible things he did. Maybe...because he did all kinds of horrible things, yet dropped his plans to accommodate her. To a point, sure, but it was more than she'd ever had before.

That was just too depressing to consider, so she focused entirely on moving the coffin. Which held his brother. Who he stabbed. She could sense the emotional blender starting up again, and she steadfastly avoided looking at Klaus. Still, her eyes flicked to him without permission when he slammed the trunk closed and easily slipped his hand next to hers on the handle she held. He gently urged her to cede the weight to him, his free hand settled low on her back. In half a second, the light contact through her shirt was all she could think about.

She was well and truly fucked.

* * *

Caroline’s coloring had worsened, her pallor dull with obvious thirst. The last blood she ate must have been before he returned to the teacher's flat, and Klaus was perturbed she hadn't bothered to replenish herself since.

Worse, she seemed determined to ignore his existence entirely. As soon as they handed the coffin over to warehouse attendants, she had wandered off in search of a vending machine. "You know me," she'd told the Ripper. "‘Sublimation’ is my middle name."

His eyes had narrowed at that, but her stubborn will could wait; tucking his brother into time out came first.

Following the movers to a secured room, he pulled a couple of hundred-dollar notes from his wallet and handed one to each of them when they finally set the coffin down. "For your trouble," he said with all the charm he could summon.

The men eagerly accepted, if a bit confused at the generosity. "We're just doing our job, sir," one insisted.

"Not that," Klaus assured them before letting his fangs slide free. Their eyes widened in fear, but he quickly held their attention with the weight of compulsion in his gaze. "Don't scream, you are safe. But my friends are hungry, and you want them to eat."

Mumbling the instructions in return, the younger one shook his head clear. "Eat what?"

They were so focused on his fangs, his fingernail slid across their throats almost without notice until the blood started to drip down their necks. "Go," he urged, bored of them and wanting Caroline fed.

As the humans stumbled out of the room, Klaus looked down to the polished surface shining under the fluorescent lights. His hands spread wide over the lid, and he took a deep breath before lifting it. "Hello, brother."

Elijah opened his eyes, the accusation clear despite the otherwise blank expression. The blood still in his system must be fading fast to have already lost muscle function in the face. Grinning, Klaus curled his fingers over the side. "No, no. Don't get up. This won't take a minute, then you'll be able to take a nice, long nap."

At a sluggish pace, his brother managed a judgmental blink. "Now, you knew the risk of failure when you decided to kill me, especially when I have everything in the world to live for." He could read the silent question clearly, centuries of experience plenty to communicate without the traditional means. "Believe it or not, I've found my mate. She's out there right now, waiting for me, and she'll join me as I create the family I was always meant to have. You..." Leaning forward, he made sure that he was all Elijah could see. "You can rot here, along with Kol and Finn. I haven't laid eyes on them in over fifty years. I wonder how long it will take for me to see you again?"

Releasing a long exhale, Klaus never looked away as he slowly lowered the lid again. Once it was closed, the air seemed to turn stale on his tongue, and he needed to move on. There would be time to make nice with his siblings later when his hybrid pack was established and Caroline could be trusted to remain at his side. It might take years, but Elijah will have come to his senses by then. Depending upon how well he groveled, perhaps he could be convinced to let Finn and Kol atone for their transgressions as well.

Perhaps. He had more pressing issues at hand, however, and he hoped one of them will have improved her mood with a fresh drink.

But where he expected to see Caroline neatly nipping into one of the men he sent her way, instead he found her sat on the ground next to the Ripper's still body, his head rested in her lap at an awkward angle. Klaus felt his mouth twist as a growl built in his throat.

Wisely heeding the warning, though not without a glare, she extracted herself with care and set her friend's head on the ground. "You did that on purpose," she seethed. "So much for keeping your promise."

"I don't follow," he said, just as agitated.

"What were you trying to accomplish by sending out those guys with bloody necks? It's not like Stefan's a _ripper_ or anything! You said you'd leave him be as long as he stayed with u- As long as he stayed."

"And you've made him very comfortable," he bit back, nodding to where she'd been cradling the boy on her legs. "I was also under the impression dear Stefan was well-adjusted in his retirement from the bloodlust."

Her nostrils flared with the calming breath she took in, and she pointed a sharp finger in his chest. "You killed his _girlfriend_ , his emotions aren't well-adjusted to anything at the moment. I was lucky to take him out before he could get a bite in, but you _can't_ do this." She swallowed, her lips curling inward apprehensively. "He's my friend," she tried to explain, eyes wide. "You might be fine dropping your brother in a box, good for you, but I can't let my friend give in to his worst impulses without trying to help him. Please, don't make it harder."

Klaus looked at her, the pleading expression and the yearning tone all very compelling. "So manipulative," he nearly cooed. "That will be useful."

Frustrated, Caroline dropped the innocent act and threw her hands up. "Ugh, you're the worst. Like you haven't manipulated everything about this situation to your liking!"

He lifted his brow, nonplussed. "Aside from requesting your presence on this trip, I've capitulated to your every whim. I only meant to keep your strength up, since you haven't touched the bags sitting in the car." She frowned at this, like she hadn't considered that the blood was for her. "You asked me a question earlier today, whether you were a soulmate or a hostage. Perhaps you're the one who needs to choose the answer, sweetheart."

She stared at him like he was an impossible puzzle that was somehow coming together in front of her, an awesome disruption in the normal way of the world. Klaus usually relished being the exception to every rule, but for once, he wanted to be accepted without hesitation. He wanted _her_ to accept him. The slightest sign she would, someday, was all he needed.

But only a hostage wouldn't accept sustenance, and her skin was starting to flake. The wolf in him whined at the idea of his mate wasting away, and the man didn't enjoy it any better - not when it made him feel powerless. Forcing her to comply wouldn't help, though, not when she'd proven to be willing to run from him altogether. If anything, the difficulty she posed only made him want to win her over even more.

"I want to know," he urged softly, giving her a wide berth as he moved away from the door. The offering was clear; he wouldn't block her way if she chose to leave. "Are you my soulmate or my hostage?"

Her hands fluttered to her waist, one lifting higher up on her side before settling on her hips. Licking her lips, she closed her eyes for the briefest moment before she met his again. "I'm not a hostage," she decided, the shake of her voice barely noticeable. "But we're going to have to set some rules if this is going to work."

The smile pulled at his lips without permission, but he enjoyed the way her gaze slid to the dip in his cheek. "Let's talk terms, love."

Against all odds, she gave a small smile in return. A bit exasperated and accompanied by a roll of her eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless.

It was a start.


	4. All Revved Up with No Place to Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an expanded fic based on the "Burned" series of mini-drabbles I wrote based on an anonymous prompt: Klaus and Caroline au soulmate meeting before the ritual. Disclaimer: I own nothing but worn-out earbuds blasting Bat Out of Hell: The Musical, the soundtrack of which inspired the chapter titles.

Caroline found herself glancing toward the backseat if only to make sure Stefan was still there. He was too quiet, being dead and all, and it made her nervous. "Rule one," she declared, "bloody humans aren't a gift, no matter how good your intentions are in providing them."

Behind the wheel and looking too much at ease, Klaus shrugged. "I will admit that I didn't anticipate the Ripper's overreaction, but I want you to understand that blood bags aren't as easy to come by as Mystic Falls made it appear. Learning how to feed properly is basic survival for a vampire, love, and I won't leave you unprepared."

Biting her tongue, she couldn't argue the logic. Still, she took a long sip of the blood bag she did have handy, having finally dipped into the cooler Stefan had packed earlier. "There's a time and place," she said. Compromise was a part of any relationship, right? "Not around Stefan, and I _always_ have a choice."

"Of course," Klaus answered, sounding offended that she might possibly assume otherwise. When she just glared expectantly, he rolled his eyes. "My apologies for surprising you earlier."

"Thank you." Blinking, she waited, but he didn't seem to notice. "And?"

He gave an annoyed scowl. "I agree to rule one. Rule two, we are on the same team, always."

"How can I possibly agree to that?" Caroline asked, her hands thrown up in the air. "Teams have a shared goal and a game plan, mutual respect. Basic understanding of the rules at play."

"We're discussing the rules right now."

She scoffed. "You know what I mean. Murder, compulsion, world domination - that's not me. That will _never_ be me."

His lips tilted into a crooked grin, and she couldn't help staring at the dimple that appeared. "I don't know, you strike me as the type to appreciate a little domination now and then."

And, just like that, he ruined it. A flush heated her face, and she absolutely did not let herself think about the smutty paperbacks she read that played right into his implied scenario. She tossed the bag down to the floorboard, determined not to get distracted from the conversation at hand. "Seriously, what's the game plan here?"

Klaus's face grew stony. "We're looking for werewolf packs."

Swallowing, she refused to show any unease despite her well-earned reservations against strangers of the werewolf persuasion. Vervain mace and wooden bullets do that to a girl they once kept in a cage. "So you've mentioned. Why?"

"For a thousand years, I've walked this earth," he explained softly. "Yet, I've only just unlocked this other half of me. Perhaps it's time I get to know my brethren past their usefulness in tracking down the doppelgänger and moonstones."

That didn't sit right with her, somehow. "If starting a furry support group is all you wanted, it seems counterproductive to drag two vampires with you. In my experience, there's a lot of baggage between the two."

He seemed to hesitate before briefly meeting her eyes with a concerned expression. "About your experience..." Her brow arched, wondering just what he was asking. Like hell was she going to lay out that trauma for him so easily, not without a stiff drink and a good cuddle, and they weren't there yet. "I want to know about Tyler Lockwood and how familiar you are with his wolf."

Digging her teeth into her lip, Caroline turned away to stare out the window and the hills rolling past. "Why do you care?" It wasn't like he would let her go home and see her friends again. Even if he did, Tyler had probably taken off already, determined to find another pack to call his own. They were friends, might have been more one day had things with Matt run their course and Klaus never come to town; now, he was just another person she left behind.

God, she missed her mom.

"You did mark my body with a claim to protect him," Klaus answered, his voice dry. "Forgive me for being intrigued by this wolf and the bond you share."

"Shared," she corrected as she leaned her head on the window. "He was having a rough time of coming to terms with the supernatural thing. I was still learning the ropes on being a vampire, so we kind of grew into it together. I ended up helping him through his first turn."

"What was it like?"

The quiet question took her by surprise, and she looked to find Klaus watching the road with a curious intensity. "You're the one with the wolf gene here," she pointed out, more gently than she expected.

A smile twitched in his mouth. "I meant for you. It must have frightened you to be so close to a dangerous, lethal animal."

But she shook her head, a grimness pulling her down. "He was still Tyler. Yes, he could have killed me, but he was my friend. It was scary, yeah. He was scared too, though, and I couldn't leave him to face it on his own." Feeling the strangest urge to reach for his hand, she tucked her hands beneath her legs. "You know what it's like, shifting."

He wet his lips. "I've only done it twice in my entire life. And you were a witness, which is entirely different from living through the change. For me, the freedom of accepting that side of myself overwhelmed everything else."

"I don't know what you mean," Caroline said, twisting to look at him curiously. He was talking about breaking a curse that had bound him for so long, yet his voice was so sad. "You want me to tell you what it was like to watch?"

"I want to know how you manage to accept your friend despite the threat he posed."

Suddenly, she wasn't watching the Original Hybrid in all his glory as he set out to embrace the destiny denied him. No, her heart instead went out to the man who had been told he wasn't enough his whole, too long life. Even his own brother would rather he die than risk unleashing him upon the world. It somehow sent her to the window she sat against as she watched her dad pack the car, only waving when he was ready to drive away to a new house he wouldn't share with her. Or eavesdropping on her mom being held in the Salvatores' basement, who told Damon she wasn't her daughter anymore.

Perhaps words on their skin weren't all that tied them together.

"I know what it's like to be left out, and no one deserves to go through something like that alone," she finally said. Her memories echoed with the stale scent of a dark hospital room and the gentle chiding of a kind nurse, in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Tyler needed someone to hold his hand and tell him it was going to be okay, and I needed to do that for him."

When her eyes slid back into focus, Klaus was frowning. His hand settled on the gearshift between them, the white-knuckle grip a bit too firm on the worn leather covering. An unexpected ounce of sympathy filled his gaze as he glanced her way. "I take it you went through your transition to vampirism alone."

"I did." There was no use hiding it, not when he had plenty of time to learn all her secrets, and she was already holding too many cards close to the vest. But she didn't have to provide all the details, either. Clearing her throat, she tried to focus on the original question. "Um, it took Tyler a few hours to actually turn. He was in pain, and he kept tiring himself out fighting against his chains."

He took a deep breath, and she could see the understanding wash over him. "The Lockwood cellar."

Her eyebrows rose without humor. "You even used the same chains to hold us as prisoners," she pointed out. How she wanted to hate him for that, but apparently she could acknowledge that kidnapping was part of the game. What was one more horror to internalize and adapt to in the grand scheme of things?

"I would apologize for that as well, but I think we both know I'm not sorry if it got us here."

God, that actually made her laugh. Despite the pain and misery he caused and refused to regret, it felt as easy as breathing to meet his gaze without the resentment she'd been clinging to so closely. His hand never wavered on the wheel as he faced her, and he looked at her the way she always dreamed a soulmate would - with longing and care, like nothing could go wrong as long as she was there next to him.

If only that were true.

They stared at each other for a brief moment that might have lasted for all eternity, full of silent intentions doomed to be poisoned, had Stefan not gasped to life behind them.

Caroline crawled over the console, ignoring Klaus's disgruntled snarl at the interruption, and popped open another blood bag. "Hey," she said with a firm grip on Stefan's shoulder. "You're okay, I promise. You need to eat, but pace yourself."

"What happened?"

Wincing, she focused on the tear of his fangs through the plastic straw. He seemed shaky, and it worried her. " _Someone_ thought live victims were the best way to make sure we were in top shape. Luckily, I got to you before you could get to them," she explained. As hard as she tried, she could still hear the judgy tone in her voice. So, she perked herself up and playfully knocked his jaw. "We should go hunting, for old times' sake. I won't even complain about fur in my teeth."

"Sweetheart," Klaus said, sounding appalled.

But she shushed him, not taking her eyes off her friend. "Come on, what do you say?" Stefan just drank the blood in measured gulps, guilt and disappointment rolling off of him in waves. "Or maybe we just drink a bar dry and eat all the junk food we can."

Finally, that earned her a smile, if a flat one. "All those French fries will kill you one day," he warned.

"I'd like to see them try," she grinned back. "There are definitely perks to the whole immortality thing, you have to admit."

His benign amusement faded away, and he clenched his fist around the empty bag. "I would have killed those guys today, Caroline."

"But you didn't! And Klaus promised not to do that again."

"I didn't exa-"

" _Rule one!_ "

Klaus sighed at the windshield as he made a wide turn into a hotel parking lot. "We can continue our discussion on rules later, once we're settled in." Rolling the car to a stop, he stepped out and opened her door. "It's not my preferred level of luxury, but it'll do for the time being. I believe there's a shopping center nearby, as well."

The disdain in his voice made her want to scoff, but the promise of new clothes and a soft bed felt all the more pressing than him being a snob. She tugged Stefan out with her, careful not to brush Klaus when she passed by him. "Are you feeling any better?" she asked, concern thick in her voice.

"I'm fine," Stefan answered gruffly.

She wasn't ready to let it go, though, not when his eyes were still dark with hunger. "We should bunk together, stay up all night and order room service." Turning to Klaus, she gave a meaningful glance to ask for backup. "Two rooms should be enough, I think."

"We'll all share a suite," he insisted with a growl, his eyes focused entirely on the grip she had on Stefan's arm. His frown deepened when she didn't budge. "It's only practical to remain in easy reach while traveling."

"Seriously? You really don't understand the concept of personal space."

"Not particularly, no."

Her eyes hurt with the strain of annoyance, and she rubbed a tired hand over her face. The only thought running through her head was how long eternity would be with such a clingy soulmate. "Fine, but I want to go shopping by myself. I need a little me time, and your hovering is not welcome."

Klaus looked like he wanted to argue, but he glanced over to Stefan, who shrugged. Sighing, he nodded. "Despite the sheltered upbringing you've had in vampirism, you _have_ learned to be discreet with your compulsion, I trust?"

She held out her hand expectantly, happy to distract from that topic for as long as she could. "I'm not stealing to facilitate your kidnapping scheme. You promised to pay, I assumed honestly."

Though he watched her reaction with a discerning eye, he didn't seem to mind her stubbornness in the least. "Very well," he conceded, pulling out his wallet and handing her a sleek credit card. "I'd get enough to last a week or so, whatever you wish. As we head west, the weather will only grow warmer."

"Thanks," she replied, feeling sincere gratitude that he cared for her to dress comfortably. "Send me your sizes and any preferences," she offered in kind. But when Klaus sucked in a surprised breath with the slightest hint of a smile, Stefan's brow furrowed into a thoughtful frown. "Both of you," she amended. "I'll get whatever you need. Hair gel?" Her lips quirked up at the joke, not that it lightened the somber mood. Shaking her head, she tucked the card into her back pocket. "I have my phone if anything comes up, though I'll probably call my mom to check in."

Had she been a betting vampire, Caroline thought it would be Klaus to take issue with calling home. To her shock and a bit of hurt, Stefan was the one to shake his head. "No," he said with a small grin of assurance. "I compelled her not to worry about you, that you were staying with your dad for the summer and you would only call if you were in trouble. Your parents don't talk much, right?"

"Right," she answered, though something felt off. From the way Klaus's mouth curled in distaste, he seemed to agree. But Stefan looked out for her, and he did what he could to buy her time to figure out this mate thing. She trusted him, and Klaus had to learn how to respect that. So, she smiled back at her friend and said, "Thanks."

As she turned to flash away, though, Klaus tossed her the car keys. "I doubt you'll want to carry back an entire wardrobe."

Caroline caught them against her chest, a bit dazed at the freedom he handed her. "Thanks," she repeated, her tone softer as he held her gaze.

Maybe the concept of trust didn't elude him completely.

* * *

Klaus found he didn't much like watching her walk away from him. Her smile was a dreamy thing, though, and the bounce in her step managed to leave him charmed despite the fierce possession clawing to keep his mate near. He knew better than to force her to stay, not when she'd just shed the hostage mindset. No, she had to choose to return to his side.

And he had to find the will to think that she would.

Besides, there was more than enough to keep his mind elsewhere for the moment. "What aren't you telling Caroline?" he asked when they reached the suite, already digging into the minibar. The paltry contents wouldn’t give him the slightest comfort, but it was better than allowing her to find him feeding on whatever bellhop wandered down the hall. His temper was hardly going to be improved by whatever Stefan had to tell him, and the booze would help.

The Ripper did him the courtesy of being honest, which was a bit more straightforward than he'd been expecting. "I didn't have to compel Liz."

How ambiguous - that rarely meant good news. Truly, he didn't care for the complications she'd left behind, but he knew better than to think Caroline was so easily rid of them. By the discomfort Stefan showed, the complications had grown more complicated. Best to learn what he could to have all the cards in his hand. "Explain," he demanded.

"She knows," Stefan breathed out all at once like it had been sitting in his chest and weighing him down. "She knows that Caroline is a vampire, and let's just say she's not for the idea."

A wry smile twisted his mouth. Just like a parent to turn on a child for not living up to their expectations, yet another commonality. Perhaps their bond wasn't doomed to a trick of fate. "I'm going to need you to be more specific."

"You did your research before coming to town, you know about the Council."

"I do."

"Then you know the local sheriff is probably on high alert for suspicious deaths and goings-on. When Damon got us caught, Caroline was the one who saved our skins.”

Klaus grimaced at the easy way she risked her own safety for the sake of others. “And exposed herself in the process.”

Nodding, Stefan’s hands tightened into fists. “Liz didn’t take the news well. We held her until the vervain could leave her system, let Caroline explain everything. By the time she was even halfway sympathetic to what happened to her daughter, Caroline compelled her to forget it all.”

His brow furrowed, frown deepening as he considered that sad little story. “The compulsion didn’t take?”

“Or she found out again.” Stefan shrugged, his knee bouncing nervously. “Regardless, she isn’t particularly worried about Caroline’s well being, and she definitely prefers her absence from Mystic Falls. I just haven’t figured out the best way to tell her. Yet.”

“It’ll break her heart,” he sighed. Though he barely knew her, his mate wore that sensitive heart on her sleeve, and familial rejection could be especially potent for one so young. Left unchecked, that pain only compounded over time - he would know.

Stefan’s jaw twitched as he ground his teeth, a classic sign of hesitation he recognized from the handbook for brooding heroes. How quaint that Elijah should live and breathe again, right in his hotel room. “Spit it out, Ripper.”

Annoyed, he glared. “Does her heart even stand a chance with you as a soulmate?”

The bitterness in tone did not escape him, and he nearly smiled in amusement had the insult not hit home. For all he would do to preserve Caroline’s life and happiness, there were undoubtedly those human expectations she had yet to grow out of that he could never fulfill. He lived a thousand years on this earth; he wouldn’t pretend to be her high school sweetheart to fill scrapbooks of precious moments. No, she’d have to be the one to fit into the life he’s crafted for himself - and for her.

The Ripper, though, he didn’t have a clue about mates, and it was laughably obvious. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you without a doppelgänger to pine for. Had her words been on your skin, perhaps you’d have done more to protect her.” Fangs dropped, and Stefan appeared ready to rush him. As much as he could go for a spot of violence, he'd made a promise to Caroline. He settled back into the couch instead, dismissing the threatening posture of his companion. "None of that, now. Have a drink and relax."

"You don't deserve her."

"Yet, she is mine. You'd do well to remember that," he warned. His skin prickled at her absence, a physical reminder of their connection and how futile it would be for her friend to interfere. "It took me this long to find her, and I won't have you whispering doubts into her ear."

With an angry shake of his head, Stefan tore into another blood bag. "I won't have to. She knows what a monster you are, which you'll prove to her over and over again." Eyes dark with hunger and rage, his fangs never receded when he spat, "Even now, it hasn't occurred to you that she's alone in an area you've scouted for wolf pack activity."

Klaus bristled at the accusation, worsened by the sudden worry that the Ripper had a point. But if he expected her to stay by his side, he needed to trust she was up to the task. "Caroline can handle herself, can't she? You were the one, after all, to push her toward the Lockwood boy." It had been a gamble, but the flash of regret across Stefan's face confirmed his insinuation. "There are few vampires who can claim that they've seen a werewolf turn and live to tell the tale. She will be fine. The moon isn't quite full yet, either."

"Yeah," Stefan huffed snidely, "because werewolves can't do damage the rest of the time."

A steely realization coiled in his gut, and the worry grew to a desperate need to lay eyes on Caroline, to ensure no harm came to her. Because the angry set of Stefan's jaw spoke a tale too terrible not to be true. His research into Mystic Falls had included a wolf pack linked to Katerina and the moonstone, then to recruit the young Tyler. If was reading the clues correctly, his mate also faced this pack, and with unfortunate results. "What don't I know?"

The low growl of his voice left the Ripper looking uncertain, his hands digging into his pockets to appear smaller. "It's not my story to tell."

With impeccable timing, a knock sounded at the door. "Hello," Caroline called. "Let me in, please, these bags are heavy."

They both flashed to the door, but like hell was Klaus going to lose that particular contest of wills. Tearing it open, his eyes surely blazed down at his mate, who merely brushed past him with a ridiculous amount of shopping bags crawling up her arms. "I don't know what you two are fighting about, but it can wait until we get these sorted out. These are mine," she said, slipping her right arm free to release a small mountain of the clothes she bought. She held her left arm out to Stefan, apologetic. "You're going to have to pick through and find your things, I was too busy to keep them separate from his."

Tapping his foot, he did not appreciate waiting. "Sweetheart."

"In a second," she groaned. Her arms stretched over her head in a distracting fashion, and she shook her hands as she brought them down. "I've done my share of shopping marathons, but that one felt like a workout. Okay, what's wrong?"

Klaus moved toward her, concerned at the red marks where handles had dug into her skin. Without conscious direction, he picked up her wrists and began to massage up her arms. "You might have asked someone to help you get these back."

She rolled her eyes, but let him continue until the indentations faded with her accelerated healing. "You mean compel someone," she pointed out. "I had it covered, thanks. Are you going to tell me why you're upset, or do I have to ask Stefan?"

Giving a gloomy frown of repentance, Stefan ran a tired hand through his hair. "I think you need to tell him about the wolves."

He watched as her head snapped to Stefan in reaction. "I think _not_. Why the hell would you bring it up?"

"He's about to drag us into wolf territory," he answered calmly. "Your experience-"

"Is _none_ of his business."

"-can help him make sure it doesn't happen again." Stefan's eyes slid to him briefly, his voice deep with an entreaty for her to see wisdom. For a moment, he seemed to bear the entire weight of his years on this earth. "I can't let it happen again."

Already certain he wouldn't like the answer, Klaus drew Caroline's attention back to him and asked again, "What don't I know?"

Her eyes pooled in angry tears as she stared back at him, defiance that cemented his foreboding.

* * *

The car keys were burning a hole in her pocket, and it took everything in her not to run. Honestly, the only reason she didn't was that Klaus would absolutely find her and demand she tell him everything. She didn't particularly want to find out how he intended to do that.

But she didn't have to make it easy on him, either.

"You don't know a lot about me, which we've already established," Caroline answered, her voice sharp to keep from crying. "We've also established you're not that great with maintaining healthy boundaries, and if you can't tell, this is one of them. Some secrets get to stay secret."

"Apparently not." Agitated, Klaus waved a hand in Stefan's direction, a bit of gold threading through his eyes. "The Ripper let slip about your run-in with a wolf pack passing through Mystic Falls, something that strikes me as exceedingly relevant to our goal."

Crossing her arms, she couldn't help a snide correction. The righteous anger helped to cover her fear that things would change when he knew; no cage would hold her again, and she'd fight like hell to make sure of that. " _Your_ goal, to trick wolves into becoming hybrids."

He didn't take the bait like she thought he might. Instead, his gaze narrowed in suspicion and - worse - pity. "Just tell me what happened, love."

"I'm going to go." Reluctantly pulling herself away from the accidental staring contest, Caroline looked to where Stefan hovered by the door. He gave a sheepish tilt of his head, which only served to remind her that this conversation was his fault.

"Traitor."

His eyes grew sad, and she felt like a bitch, just not enough to apologize. "I'll be at the bar, come join me when you're done."

When he slipped out of the room, the tension seemed to pulsate between the two of them left. "Talk to me, love."

"Stop calling me that," she bit out, gathering her clothes and stomping toward the nearest bedroom. Of course, Klaus followed her, but she focused entirely on tearing tags and folding. "I don't know what Stefan told you-"

"I want _you_ to tell me."

"-but I don't have to relive my trauma to fuel your villainous backstory," she finished, her fangs bared. "I'm not some toy to be batted around for your amusement, there's no string to pull to make me talk. I need trust." Sighing, she dropped the dress she'd been fiddling with. She looked up to find him watching her, curiosity and concern a strange combination in his eyes. "I need trust," she said again. "So, show me I can trust you."

Klaus wet his lips as he sat next to her on the bed, his hands carefully folded between his knees. "How?"

Her shoulders dropped, and she took a deep breath to gather her thoughts. "Why do you really want hybrids?" The question slipped out quietly, but she felt her heart hang on the answer he might give. Trying to accept her soulmate was an impossibly old, dangerous hybrid was bad enough; she had no idea what to do with him actively trying to take over the world, one wolf at a time. Like he could hear her fear, he hesitated with a subtle bite of his tongue. "Please," she breathed. _Don't lie to me._

Somehow, that would be the issue she couldn't get past, she just knew it.

"Do you know what it's like to be all alone in the world?"

Caroline swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, and she found herself digging her nails into the dress she still held. She did know loneliness, the painful silence of an empty house or the petty gossip she pandered to get people to talk to her. His eyes spoke of a different grief, though, one that made him appear ancient with hard-won wisdom. So, she turned toward him and gave a slow shake of her head. "But Elijah's your brother, you've had a family..."

Scratching at the back of his shoulder, Klaus took a deep breath. "My family is more complicated than I can easily explain."

For some reason, tears pricked at her eyes, and she finally let herself reach for his arm. "Try me," she urged.

He wouldn't look at her, but his hands loosened their tight grip on each other to gently take her hand in his. As he told his story, he played with her fingers, tracing the edges and every dip in her skin. A father who hated him, a mother who failed him when he needed her the most, siblings who grew tired of each other over too many centuries in orbit. "Half-siblings, technically," he clarified softly.

She watched helplessly as his nail scraped down the heart line of her palm. Ouija boards and palm readings were remnants of sleepovers past, but even Bonnie hadn’t been able to predict where she was now - or who was holding her hand. "If your mom was a witch, the wolf gene must have come from your dad. Did you ever meet him?"

"No." His stare was hard, though his gently grip on her never faltered. Throat bobbing, his eyes flicked to hers before falling back to their joined hands. "Mikael killed Esther before I could ask her more, and he surely would have killed me had I stayed long enough to find the man on my own."

An overwhelming rush of sympathy had her other hand moving to his arm - whether to comfort him or herself, she didn't know. Still, she trailed the length of his forearm, back and forth. Her side tingled with awareness. "So, you're going to find other wolves instead? Create a new family?"

The heat poured off him as his head leaned toward hers, and she felt herself leaning in as well until her forehead landed against his temple. "Something like that," he answered quietly.

She wanted to press him on the plan to turn those wolves into hybrids, to demand he drop the megalomaniac fantasies of building an army with them. But she wanted to preserve the bubble of peace they had accidentally formed, almost as much as she wanted to believe the soulmate thing would work out for them; that pushed her to offer a bit of honesty of her own. "You know, my dad went and created a new family. It's working out pretty well for him."

"He left you?"

The question sounded so perplexed falling from his lips, and she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. No, she couldn't face the expression accompanying that voice without falling inconveniently, head-over-heels, in thrall with him. Had it really been only a few days since they first laid eyes on each other? Everything was happening so fast, but she felt as though her path somehow always lead inevitably to loving him. "He left my mom," she corrected, just to think about anything else. "I was just collateral damage."

Klaus's hand moved to her waist, tantalizingly close to her mark, which seemed to sear with a sensation sharper than pain. "That must have been hard."

With a shrug, she forced a half-hearted smile and said, "I've dealt with worse."

Some moments broke, others shattered. To her, this one pulled taut, like a string ready to burst. She could hear the shake of his throat as his thumb stroked over her ribs. " _Please_ ," he said, echoing her earlier plea. "Tell me what happened to you."

There were too many ways to answer that, but only one that he was prepared to hear about. "Tyler's uncle was running with a pack out of Florida. When he died, someone came looking for him. Another wolf, named Jules."

"The wolf I used to break my curse," Klaus remembered.

"You _killed_ her to break your curse. But she had a chance to kill me, too, and she would have taken it had Stefan and...Damon not stopped her." Tears threatened to rise, and she quickly leaned back to wipe beneath her eyes. "Um...the pack traveled in RVs, camped in the woods. Might be helpful to consider for your hunting grounds."

He reached up to hold her face, frowning at the way she wouldn't meet his gaze. Still, he tried to coax her with a small, wincing grin. "Nice try, sweetheart."

Sinking into his palm, she did her best not to cry as the memory of gunshots roared in her ears. "Tyler had left with Jules to learn more about being a wolf, came back home without her. She showed up again, though, and brought the whole pack with her. They thought the Salvatores were holding him hostage."

"So they took one in turn."

"Like I said, collateral damage," Caroline said in a too cheery tone, waving spirit fingers between them. His hand moved to the back of her neck, and his fingers tangled in her hair. He didn't pull her forward, just held her at arm's distance. "I guess a lot of wolves find their comfort zone for the full moon. Tyler used the chains in the Lockwood cellar. The camper I was held in...it had a cage."

His grip clenched more tightly, only for him to slowly release and pull back from her hair entirely. She watched it happen in slow motion with a strange sense of mourning that left her lip quivering. But if she was upset at the distance he put between them, Klaus seemed devastated. "How did they hurt you?"

"Vervain, to get me inside. Wooden bullets laced with more vervain to keep me weak." Her knee bounced nervously, even as her fists curled in determination. "Headshot to send a message."

Instantly, Klaus lurched to his feet to begin pacing in front of the bed. "They _shot_ you?"

"They're dead."

He scowled, not mollified in the least. "Too kind a fate, and no kind of justice for what they did to you."

Her mouth fell open, but she bit her tongue when she realized how stupid it would be to point out the wolf responsible only died because he dared to go after Elena. "Thank you," she offered instead.

That pulled Klaus to a stop, and he stared at her for a long moment before kneeling at her feet. He lifted one of her hands to rest on his shoulder - no, to land on the back of it, and a jolt of electricity seemed to crackle up her arm. Even without him saying so, she knew his mark lay beneath her hand. Or, _her_ mark, in a sense.

She couldn't breathe.

Klaus looked similarly affected, a resolve hardening in his gaze as his chest heaved with the air she couldn't take in. "No one will harm you ever again."

"You can't promise that," Caroline said. Softly, though, because she knew he meant every word and appreciated the intention behind it. And maybe because she felt faint with the need to see the words she spoke on his skin. "I'm a vampire, harm comes with the territory."

"Not when you're mine." God, his hands were huge as they spread over her thighs, warm and solid in a very distracting way. When her eyes flicked up to his face, however, she was more distracted by the few inches he would have to stretch to kiss her. "You are mine, love," he vowed on a whisper, "and I-"

"Does that make you mine, too?" she asked, using her free hand to trace the bottom curve of his mouth with a light finger. The other remained steady on his shoulder; none of her dreaming about soulmates included the sheer energy she felt flowing through them, nor how addicting it could be. "If I'm yours, you should be mine."

Twisting his head to the side, he placed a reverent kiss on her wrist, the closest part he could reach without jostling her hand from his mark. "Sounds fair to me. I still wish I could have torn those wolves to pieces for touching you."

She wet her lips, pressing them together in thought - and maybe to keep from pressing them to his. Violence should _not_ be a turn-on, and like hell was she going to blur that line. _Not today_ , she swore to herself, pointedly ignoring the huge caveat implied. "You know," she said in hopes of changing the subject, "Stefan was the one to come find me, and he made sure I wasn't alone afterward. He's a good friend, you don't have to provoke the Ripper just to like the guy."

Klaus rolled his eyes ever so slightly, but she abruptly stood before he could make whatever quip he had ready. Watching her with alarm, he followed her back to the suite's main room. "Stefan should have been back by now," she declared, checking the other bedroom to see if he somehow slipped in without them noticing.

"He asked you to meet him at the bar."

"But he wouldn't have left us alone for so long, not in his state..." She trailed off, fear creeping up her spine. "Oh, no."

Without another word, they both flashed down to the lobby. While she searched for a sign or a tipsy guest, Klaus had a different strategy to find the bar. When he sniffed the air, his expression tensed into a resigned frown. "Wait here, sweetheart."

"What? No!" Caroline grabbed his arm before he could walk away, pinching his elbow as he tried to shake her off. "I'm coming with you."

A part of her immediately regretted that decision at the stab of worry in his eyes; the rest of her regretted it when they found the bar, drenched in blood and filled with dead patrons sitting politely in their chairs.

Stefan stood in the corner, flipping through the record catalog in the retro jukebox. He must have heard them with the scream she barely choked back, but he only gave an annoyed shrug. "No Bon Jovi? What kind of jukebox doesn't have Bon Jovi?"

She gaped openly, and she couldn't bring herself to fight Klaus's comforting hand on her waist. He pulled her close, the barest touch along the bottom of her mark helping her to relax a bit. At least, until he confirmed her greatest fear at that moment. "Hello, Ripper."

And the famed Ripper of Monterey just smiled.


	5. Objects in the Rearview Mirror May Appear Closer than They Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but worn-out earbuds blasting Bat Out of Hell: The Musical, the soundtrack of which inspired the chapter titles.

Klaus could feel the tension winding tight within Caroline, and he laid his hand more firmly on her waist until her hip bumped into his. The contact did wonders to ground him as he faced the Ripper. Just as he expected, his old friend was an unpredictable nuisance and perfect for the task he had imagined.

But that was before he found his mate. Clearly gutted by the scene surrounding them, she even leaned into his touch - like _he_ was the safe haven. Klaus found he didn't like her distress, no matter how easily it drove her into his waiting arms. "Why don't you head back up to the room, sweetheart?"

His lip curled with an odd glee, the Ripper turned to watch them curiously. "Aren't we cozy with each other," he teased. It was the oddest thing; most vampires lost a vibrance of their personality when toying with the humanity switch. Stefan, however, seemed to come alive without the impulse control his better angels provided. "It's like you're falling in love before my very eyes. How quaint."

As delightful as the change was to him, playing with such a dangerous new toy in Caroline's presence was too reckless by half. "Sweetheart," he tried again, not taking his eyes away from Stefan in case the Ripper made a poor decision that required his full attention to correct. "We need to make sure no one else happens upon this little scene. Go compel the front desk and any guests away from the bar."

"No," Caroline snarled behind clenched teeth, her spine an iron rod beneath his arm. Still, he could feel the shake she couldn't quite stifle, hear the rush of desire as it filled her eyes with a hunger. There was simply too much blood for her youth to withstand, yet she would not allow herself to partake. _Interesting_. "I'm not leaving, and you can't make me."

Stefan snorted at that. "But he can, _sweetheart_. He can compel you just as easily as if you were human, and he probably will. The only question is when." His eyes bored into Caroline, and Klaus fought the insistent urge to tear them out for scaring her. "Forever is a long time to wait for the other shoe to drop."

"Fuck you." Rather than blistering in anger, her voice was ice cold. "Give me my friend back."

His head fell to the side, watching her with blatant curiosity. "You know that's not how this works. I'm still Stefan, whether you like it not. And you've got a ruthless streak to you, Caroline. You might prefer me this way."

Crossing her arms, she took a sharp breath in - a mistake, as her fangs slid free at the fresh taste of blood. Guilt flushed her face, but she didn't let it distract her. "I _don't_. What the hell happened that this is somehow preferable to _you_?"

Moving to the bar to pour himself a drink, Stefan arched a brow at her. "Don't knock it 'til you try it," he shrugged. "The emotional turmoil, the petty jealousies, they can all disappear with the flip of a switch. For all we know, your mate bond could disappear, too."

Klaus's grip turned possessive, not liking the temptation in his voice. While he had no doubt Caroline would toy with her humanity over their eternity and that she would be nothing short of glorious, he would prefer not to put their tenuous connection at such a risk so soon. More concerning, he didn't like that the Ripper seemed so taken with the idea. "Not that simple, mate," he said with some effort to keep his tone even. Nothing provoked a humanity-free vampire more than an emotional scab to pick at. "After all, your words haven't disappeared, have they?"

With a careless shrug, he started to unbutton his shirt. When he pulled the flannel open, a flowing script was visible over his heart. _Pardon me_. Klaus wanted to laugh, but Caroline was still too tense beside him; it wouldn't do to make light of the situation at hand. "Apparently not, though I don't have a soulmate myself to judge. They're just words on my skin. They have always been just words on my skin."

Caroline made to edge closer to Stefan, but Klaus silently urged her to stay at his side. "It took him a thousand years," she pointed out quietly, sadly glancing around to their dead audience. "Keep up the reckless murder and you won't survive long enough to find yours. Or you might kill them without knowing, then you'll just be miserable forever."

"Or I can kill his."

Flashing forward without hesitation, Klaus dodged the Ripper's impulsive attack and snapped his neck - almost too hard, nearly twisting his head clean off. He was shaking with fury as he stared down at the body, the blood rushing in his ears not quite enough to drown out her ragged gasp. "Give me one reason not to kill him right now."

He couldn't look back at her, not with the vision Stefan had planted in his head of losing her for his own folly. But every other sense was focused on her so intently, he heard the glide of her tongue over her lip and smelled the rush of adrenaline course through her body. When she spoke, however, she managed to surprise him. "Because you don't want to," she answered, still breathing too hard, "or else you would have already."

"You underestimate the restraint I'm willing to employ for your sake," he seethed, irritated beyond belief. To be so totally at her whim already felt a failing when she refused to give him any ground at all. Instead, her affection lay with the monster who'd kill her without a second thought in such a state. He'd clearly overestimated the ease of integrating Caroline and her needs into his original plan, and the knowledge of having made such an error of judgment grated at his already frayed nerves.

At least she seemed just as frustrated with Stefan, for the time being anyway. "Compel him to turn it back on," she suggested, her tone a bit helpless. "Make it so he can't go all Ripper again."

His jaw tightened with something like regret flooding him. As deeply as he wished he could comfort her, none of the options at hand would be so simple - or palatable. Unfortunately, she was already operating under one misapprehension he felt obliged to correct. "It doesn't work like that, sweetheart." He wet his lips, her expression utterly lost as she tried to parse what he said. "The switch isn't real."

Eyes wide, her fangs looked almost comical in the face of the confusion she obviously felt. "What the fuck are you talking about? Of course it is, because _that_ is not the Stefan I know," she snapped, pointing down at the still body, "and he didn't just disappear for _nothing_."

"It's a coping mechanism, an effective one." To have to explain this to her felt a grave sign of what lacked in her education for this life. He'd already seen the survival instinct catch flame within her, one he'd been grateful for upon learning what she was to him. But that instinct was a double-edged sword when wielded as her only weapon; it would keep her alive, yet forever in the mindset of being prey. Teaching her to embrace a more well-rounded approach to vampirism became a top priority in his mind, right after this little hiccup.

First things first, he supposed. "Being a ripper, it's a physical response, always needing more until your quarry is in pieces. The switch is an emotional shutdown," Klaus explained as kindly as he could, though the rage still simmered in his gut that Stefan's instability put Caroline in danger. Had he had the time to control the initial trigger, then the safeguards would already be in place. Hell, she might have been on the same page as opposed to trying to fix it. 

Bygones, now. "I can make him turn it back on, but his mind will just create a new way for him to cope. In my experience, it's far more unpredictable and altogether dangerous. At least like this, I can understand how he thinks and stay a step ahead of his patterns." He hoped so, anyway, once he managed to predict _her_ as well.

She took a step back, trying and failing to look the furthest thing from scared. "You're so sure you can think like him." Swallowing, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach. "Because you're a killer?"

The sigh escaped him slowly, and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do. If only he was already secure in her attachment, it would all be so much easier. "Because I lied to you," he answered honestly, hating the way her body sagged. "I _have_ met the Ripper before, and I'm...intimately familiar with how he operates."

Chicago felt both ages ago and infinitely present in his mind, much like New Orleans before it. Most of that had to do with the bitter reminder of Rebekah's absence over the last ninety years, but there was some regret in leaving Stefan to survive Mikael alone. Taking his memories was a kindness in the moment, as close to weakness as Klaus could allow since losing Marcel. 

Of course, his relationship with Marcel was _very_ different than the one he had with the Ripper.

Caroline's confusion gave way to a sudden realization, which turned oddly sad as she looked back down at Stefan. She paled significantly, the contrast against her still darkened eyes startling in its beauty. There was something infinitely human, however, about her dejected expression. " _Oh_."

Alarmed, Klaus struggled to understand why she withdrew from him, going so far as to take timid steps away. "It was a long time ago, sweetheart," he said, overwhelmed with the need to explain. 

"But you wanted him to come. With you," she added quickly, a deep blush blending into the darkened veins beneath her eyes. "All along, you acted like the Ripper was just a toy when-" Swallowing whatever she meant to say next, her eyes faded to their normal gray, though they were tinged blue with unexpected tears as she glanced to the bodies surrounding them. “Is this what you were hoping for in a mate?” Her voice was quiet in its terror. Still, her posture was stubbornly rigid. “Because it’s not me, Klaus, and I wouldn’t forgive you for trying to change that.”

He contained his reaction to a minute frown, his hands folding behind his back to appear open and nonthreatening. “Like your friend said, forever is a long time. Surely, you can’t hold me responsible when you inevitably evolve over the years, regardless of my influence or desires.”

She was shaking her head even before he finished speaking, an automatic refusal of what he knew to be true. “Don’t pretend like you have no intention of making me useful to whatever plans you’re hiding,” she spat. "I'm sure you're already laying the groundwork for the most convenient _evolution_ of my personality."

"And you're not intending to do the same?" he threw back, anger boiling at the edges of his vision. "You have made no secret of your disdain for me unless I concede to your naive attempts at a peaceful life. In a thousand years, peace isn't what this life has brought me. What peace I _have_ found, I've had to take for myself."

"Like how you took me for yourself?"

But he snorted, moving to the Ripper to toss him over his shoulder. "We both know I haven't had a moment of peace since I laid eyes on you, sweetheart."

While he expected her to snap at him again for the pet name, she only looked concerned at the way Stefan's body swayed. "What are you doing with him? You can't kill him, you promised!"

He sighed in resignation, flashing up to their suite with her on his heels. "That little tableau down in the bar won't go unnoticed for long, and we need to get back on the road if we want to maintain some discretion."

"We can't just keep snapping his neck," she pointed out, her hands wildly gesticulating. "And I'm _not_ vervaining him."

"I'm not asking you to," he answered through gritted teeth. "Our best option is to compel him, so vervain would be counterproductive."

Her fists balled at her sides as he let them into the room. "You _just_ said you couldn't compel him to turn it back on!"

"No, but I can enforce certain parameters on his conduct, to control his urges and occasionally divert them to more appropriate targets. You're fond of setting rules." He tossed the Ripper to the nearest couch, snarling at the way she hurried to comfort his lifeless corpse with pillows, arranging his limbs just so. Perhaps he was simply unused to the tenderness of such a friendship, though it seemed more affectionate than he liked. "I'm open to suggestions."

She grimaced at the prospect, and Klaus took an ignoble joy in her displeasure. "I don't want to control him," she sadly, and his joy dampened at her heartbreak. 

The alternative, however, was not even in consideration, not when a real fear felt like a block of ice in his chest. "He might kill you, and I refuse to chance it. I will compel him, love," he warned, moving until her eyes met his. "This is your opportunity to influence how I do that."

He was trying, couldn't she see that? It was more than he'd given to anyone else, which ought to count for something.

Judging by her cold stare, however, the concession appeared to elude her. "Am I supposed to thank you? If you had any idea what it takes for me to even let you..." She broke off, apparently overcome with a temper he couldn't understand. Her breathing heavy and agitated, she closed her eyes and forced her breaths to slow through her puckered lips. He watched her, curious at the veins twitching on her face, as though the rush was being held just at bay. For one so young, she truly battled the emotional trigger of her vampirism with great strength. By the time she looked up at him again, the only expression left was sheer determination. "Fine. How would you do it?"

Klaus nodded, folding his hands behind his back as though presenting a best offer. "I would compel him to obey our commands, requiring permission to feed and kill. Your person is not to be harmed, ever, at any cost."

She had listened in silence, but her head was shaking before he finished. "He's not a doll to order around. I won't agree to the first. Permission to feed seems reasonable, considering the circumstances, but to kill? The real Stefan wouldn't want to kill anyone!"

"Which is easily prevented by you never granting him permission." He rubbed his forehead, the sudden tension an unwelcome affliction that only seemed to happen during her fits of conscience.

"It's not me I'm worried about," she huffed. "Speaking of, I'm not comfortable with the 'at any cost' bit. Whatever worst-case scenario you're picturing should absolutely not include forcing Stefan to sacrifice himself to save me from whatever you define as harm."

Though he opened his mouth to argue, Klaus noticed the slight tremor of Stefan's hand. "I will take your notes into consideration," he said, knowing it wouldn't be enough for her - but time had run out. Before she could release the frustrated scream he saw building in her throat, he hauled the Ripper up by his neck to pin him to the wall. His eyes just managed to open when his gasp was too strangled to make a sound. "Listen carefully."

Stefan's arms were longer, and they might have reached his face had Caroline not been quick enough to force them back against the wall, too. As much as Klaus wanted to comment, he forced himself to focus with the full weight of his gaze and the compulsion that pulsed between them. "Ripper, you will obey our commands, and you shall not feed or kill without our explicit permission. Caroline is to be protected, both by and from yourself. No harm may come to her."

The instructions were muttered back to him with the barest hint of disdain, and the futile rage burning in the Ripper's eyes allowed Klaus to relax his hold. Caroline was slower to move away, but when she did, it was to snatch her hands back and hold them tight around her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes downcast and near tears. Angrily wiping them away, she finally looked up to glare at _him_. "So much for taking my notes into consideration!"

"We can amend his compulsion as needed, _later_ ," he growled back, utterly tired of her nonstop fighting. "For now, we have to move. Enough chatter, pack up everything and get to the car." Stefan started to gather the shopping bags still left strewn about the room, but Caroline held firm where she stood. Her arms were crossed over her chest, which proved quite the distraction as his eyes were drawn to the peek of cleavage. The sharp stubbornness just made her all the more enticing. He wet his lips and waited until she stomped her foot. "You didn't compel me, so don't expect me to follow your orders. You can ask nicely."

"Get your things or leave them behind," Klaus replied, taking a measured step toward her. "It's your choice, love. Always. Just make it quickly."

She scoffed, her fists balling like she wanted to shove him to the floor. "You're supposedly an all-powerful monster, right? What the hell has you so scared of a little blood?"

His fangs slid free at the spike of terror all too present in his long life, the crowded double set still unfamiliar behind his lips. Oh, but his mouth watered with the scent of her anger so potent in the air and the thrum of her heart beating too quickly. "So naive," he reminded her with a cruel smirk. "Half the game of immortality is maintaining a bit of mystery about yourself. I can't very well teach you the finer points of being a vampire if you end up staked by-" He swallowed unexpectedly. "-a lucky hunter that happens upon the Ripper's trail."

"I'm better at this than you think I am, but glad to hear how you really see me." 

It was like the fight had drained from her in an instant, her face slack as she looked anywhere but at him. Quietly, she picked up one of the shopping bags still strewn about the room. "I'll go pack. Just give me five minutes to shower," she said, sounding tired. "I need to wash the last few days off me."

Klaus watched her go, stone-faced, and he would swear his mark grew colder the greater the distance she put between them. Though he didn't particularly enjoy the sensation, it did cement the fact that their bond still endured despite the ebb and flow of their rapport. He'd only told the truth: she did need to learn how to survive in the world he wanted her to thrive in.

The only question that remained was when she would be willing to give him the chance to show her how.

* * *

While Caroline understood the need for urgency, she allowed herself the full five minutes to indulge in the privacy of the shower. Turning the water to the hottest setting, she managed to wait until the room filled with steam before she dropped into an anxious crouch. She might have pulled her hair out had she not wrapped her arms so tightly around her legs. 

Forcing herself into slow, even breaths helped her to focus, but it also kept her so fully attuned to her body; despite the stuffy heat surrounding her, a frozen bite sank in from the words on her skin. Even with her arm tucked over her ribs, she just couldn't get warm. 

Klaus didn't want her. 

It was hardly new information, but she hadn't quite recovered from the bloodbath downstairs and her emotions were running too high to think rationally. Still, it seemed painfully obvious that the soulmate thing was a mistake of the universe, and she couldn't give him the violence and cunning he needed to take over the world. She didn't even want to, so why did it hurt so much?

In the back of her head, though, she knew. Not even her soulmate wanted her. He was just putting up with her because of some scribbling over her side.

To make it all worse, she knew exactly the mate he probably had in mind whenever he deigned to spare a thought to her possible existence. All along, even after he realized who she was and how they were bound to each other, Klaus went to some trouble to make sure the Ripper was coming along. He lied about an apparently entangled past, and she suddenly wondered just how much he missed his old _friend_ over the years. 

Stefan was pretty, she'd give him that, and Elena certainly only had good things to say about _their_ relationship. God, _Elena_. How did she keep forgetting? Tears gushed out her eyes as a fresh wave of grief tugged her down. Her friend was dead, and the guy who killed her all but shoved the love of her life over the edge to become his worst self.

And Caroline wasn't doing a damn thing to fix it.

"No." It felt like a shout in her mind, but it came out as a whisper. Her lips pressed to her knee, she said it again to stave off the shaking. " _No_."

Digging her nails into her legs, she pushed herself up. Her face tilted back into the stream of water, and she could only hope it would cover any signs of crying. Vampire healing or no, Klaus would just know, and she really didn't need him throwing it back at her later as a sign of weakness. 

She might be naive, but she wasn't weak. In time, he would learn that lesson the hard way. Given the chance, she would make him regret every poor decision he ever made - especially underestimating her.

When her five minutes were up, Caroline strolled out of the bathroom with her chin high and she didn't spare Klaus a glance as he lurked by the front door. "I assume Stefan's in the car," she said, breezing right past him.

His hand slipped into her arm, but she tugged herself free before he could completely turn her to face him. "Sweetheart-"

"Let's go." She cut him off, already whirling around to continue on her way out of the suite. His aggravation was clear and begging to be prodded, but it wasn't worth breaking the mask of indifference she'd painstakingly woven herself with the last threads of her dignity. "Don't want to keep you from the Ripper you were so excited about."

Just as she reached the elevators, Klaus once again grabbed her arm. Only this time, she had no chance to slip free as he didn't stop until he had her pressed against the wall. His hand dropped to her waist, and what had frozen her mark before now burned like an electric shock. His eyes wide, the intensity of his gaze might have pinned her there just as well. "I wish you would talk to me," he said, careful to keep his voice down. "This detachment of yours won't solve anything, nor will it change what we are to each other." She couldn't stop an insolent huff, and he glared. "You asked me for honesty, and I won't be punished for playing by your rules."

"Stop pretending like anything I say matters," she snapped. “We both know you're going to do what you want, and I'm just the baby vampire you got stuck with." Staring at her like she was speaking a foreign language, Klaus was spared from forming a response by the barest twitch of his attention. A moment later, she heard it, too: the faint but unmistakable wail of an approaching siren. Planting her hands against his chest, she shoved him back so she could hit the call button. “Come on. Odds are, someone found your boyfriend’s crime scene, and we should be on the road before they shut the place down.”

With the slightest roll of his eyes and moving too quickly for her to dodge him he flashed her down the back stairway and out of the hotel in a bear hug. The SUV was idling in the next parking lot with Stefan behind the wheel. Hurtling them both into the backseat, Klaus slammed the door shut, and they were off - not fast enough to draw attention, but hardly at a casual speed either. To anyone paying attention, they were just another car impatiently winding through traffic.

Caroline wondered if Stefan had been a getaway driver in one of his previous lives, then she wondered just how much she didn’t know about her friend. With the Ripper in residence, she had a feeling she was about to find out more than she ever wanted to learn.

Thankfully, both he and Klaus allowed her to stew in silence. Only asking for the radio to be turned up, she folded her legs up to her chest and stared out the window as they drove. She had no idea where they were going or what the plan was, but she was glad to have chosen a comfortable romper to wear as two hours in the car turned to three, then four. 

“What about the wolves you were tracking?”

The question burst out of her, taking all three of them by surprise. Stefan lifted a brow but quickly focused back on the road, whether because of his compulsion or general lack of interest, she could only guess. Klaus, however, wouldn’t be so easily deterred from the conversation she didn’t mean to start. “There will be others. Had it not been an issue of time, I might have done more to conceal the scene and any obvious signs of vampires or ourselves in particular. However, the scene couldn’t be contained in my distraction, and the simplest option was to cut our losses and move on.”

She gave him no sign of acknowledgment, though he had been right - ignoring him wouldn’t solve anything. But petty as it was, she did feel a mean rush of pride at his dejected sigh. “The next lead is down in South Carolina. With the Ripper being more cooperative, my plan should go more smoothly.”

Her fangs were safely tucked away, but her teeth drew blood from her lip anyway to keep herself from demanding more answers. This was probably his strategy, to dangle the information in a show of being open - like she was the one being unreasonable. She was reminded of her parents’ fights before the divorce, sliding knives so aggressively passive in their minds until they worked each other up into a blowout. Was this the rest of her life? Unlike the discarded wedding rings they let her keep, Klaus’s words would always be a part of her.

Oh, fuck. She shouldn’t have left the shower, where it was safe to cry and all but lose her mind. She shouldn’t have left Mystic Falls at all.

She wished Klaus had never said those damned words.

* * *

The new hotel boasted a lovely penthouse, but Klaus was in no mood to enjoy it. He threw his duffel onto the bed, utterly exhausted. Young vampires often didn’t notice until their second or third decade, but sleep became easier to do without for long periods of time. Not just days, but entire months. Before breaking his curse, true rest was a luxury he couldn’t afford with Mikael on his trail. Even now, with wolf blood flowing freely in his veins and his father long since dormant, he couldn’t risk being caught off guard. He was just so tired.

When the plans for this trip first formed in his mind, he never expected that the Ripper would be a pleasant companion. The compulsion was always going to be necessary, and their exploits in Chicago were just supposed to be a private joke that gave him a laugh should any reminiscences arise. Bringing Stefan along was simply meant to keep a useful tool at hand, with the added bonuses of amusing himself and sowing a little chaos in the wake of Mystic Falls.

Caroline, however, was an entirely different challenge he wasn’t sure he could have ever been prepared to handle. 

Despite her sudden interest in the wolves, she stubbornly refused to ask him any more questions. Irritated, he chose not to elaborate on his plan for their next stop, nor did he want to worsen her mood further by supplying yet another offense for her to hold against him. Best to let her grow bored of her childish game and get used to the reality that the Ripper was there to stay, albeit on a tight leash - a leash he very generously left in her hands. 

For the time being, of course. He could only hope she would come around to his reasoning when he needed to channel Stefan’s particular skills for his own purposes. But that would require her to _speak_ with him. Given the way she stomped into her room and slammed the door, Klaus didn’t think pressing the matter was worth the effort it would take to get her to open it again. Sullen and wanting to be alone, he ordered the Ripper out for the night to hunt and heal, no killing whatsoever, and asking him to bring back live humans with little to no bloodshed.

If Caroline insisted upon complaining about his view of humans, she would do so on a full stomach and learn a lesson or two along the way.

Until then, the bed was too inviting not to take advantage of a few hours’ peace. 

By the time his eyes drifted closed, however, Caroline’s heartbeat started to race. He had heard her slide into her own bed, and her breathing slow to a deep, even rhythm; by all logic, she ought to have been fast asleep. Listening more intently, the softest whimper left him sitting up. Surely, she wasn’t—

Another whimper, this one pained. No, those weren’t murmurs of pleasure. 

She sounded scared.

Not wanting to startle her, Klaus crept out of bed and stole across the suite to her door. “Caroline,” he called, knocking gently. He received no answer but a small cry, and he wrenched the door open without entirely deciding to do so. 

Gasping awake, Caroline curled into herself on the bed and pushed herself back against the headboard. Her heart beating too fast now, she stared at him with wide eyes. "What's wrong?" she breathed, as though she didn't look utterly terrified.

"I believe I should ask that of you." He was at a loss in knowing how to soothe her, if she'd even allow it. "I heard-"

"Oh." She hurriedly swiped a hand beneath her eyes, but he saw the flush of her cheeks she couldn't hide. "Just a nightmare."

He shut the door behind him as he stepped toward the bed, feeling pulled in like a magnet toward her. For once, though, he couldn't blame the mark on his shoulder. Seeing her distress pained him, just not due to their physical connection. That worried him. Gingerly sitting next to her, he folded his hands in his lap to keep from reaching out for hers. "I caught that much. Would y- Do they happen often?"

Her head shook as she wrapped her arms around her legs, but it wasn't in answer to his question. "It's none of your business."

"I know," he admitted freely. It was why he didn't dare to ask the contents of her torment, not directly. "But I've found that naming the horrors that haunt us can ease them over time."

"And if I said it was about you?"

The phantom pain lanced through him more sharply, and he couldn't school the wince from his face. "Was it?" He hated that he couldn't dismiss the possibility out of hand. As justified as he'd been in doing whatever it took to break his curse, he could acknowledge the nightmares he might have caused. To be the monster in hers, though...

The very thought was repellent. 

"Was it?" he asked again, unable to keep the bite of anger from his tone. He was only angry at himself, no need to take it out on her.

With a shaky breath, her head bowed. He watched as her hair fell over her face, loose and soft. It occurred to him that he hadn't seen her so casual in their few days together. The pajama set she bought was a light blue that complemented her eyes. Her top rode up a bit against the pillows, and his eyes fell to a peek of the dark script that could only be the mark that started this whole thing. Clenching his fists, a ferocious yearning to see it gripped his heart. 

But she'd just had a nightmare about him, and he couldn't-

"No," Caroline whispered against her knee. "I still don't want to talk about it, but it wasn't you."

A sigh of relief loosened his chest, though he couldn't relax completely, not when she was still so upset. "The wolves, then?"

She sighed, too, but it sounded heavier. "Can we just...not?" Finally, she looked up, and she looked as tired as he felt, and he wanted to know so badly what stole her rest. "I don't want to talk, I don't want to fight, I-" Biting her lip, she cut herself off, like the words slipped away from her. She glanced around the room and frowned. "Where's Stefan?"

So much for not wanting to fight. "I let him out, he's blowing off some steam. Not allowed to kill," he promised. "But it's best to keep him occupied and tired out."

Her nose wrinkled with something like disgust, but her lips curled the slightest bit north. "Please stop comparing my friend to a dog. He's not on a leash, and you're not letting him out." Pausing, she canted her head to the side. "Thanks for taking murder off the table, though."

"About that..."

Any good humor he'd earned drained from her face. Her legs straightened, pushing herself even further away from him. He wanted to reassure her, to reach out with a comforting touch; he knew better than to try. The only thing she'd accept from him now was honesty. "Stefan will be bringing back some blood donors. I won't let you hurt them, but you have to learn how to feed. Properly."

Caroline seemed to shrink in on herself, and she pulled a pillow into her arms. "I know," she answered, sounding defeated, "but does it have to be today?"

Shaking his head, he reached for the pillow and urged her to lie down. "He won't be back until morning. Rest, try to get some sleep. It's been a long day."

She rolled her eyes, but let him tuck her into bed, complete with a fluff of her pillow before nestling it beneath her head. Tugging the blankets up to her chin, his hand made a concerted effort to avoid the spot on her ribs he'd give his whole arm to see - just to confirm it was real. Like she could sense how torn he was, she snatched his wrist before he could step away. "Um...Damon once... _mentioned_ that vampires can go into dreams." Klaus nodded slowly. "Can you give me one, without getting in my head?"

Again, he nodded, more hesitant this time. "It works best with physical contact." His nose tipped down to the bed and the wide space next to her, wanting nothing so much in his entire life. Heart in his throat, he forced himself to swallow it, leaving his voice a mere whisper. "May I?"

Gently removing her hand from his wrist, Caroline slid across the bed to give him a wide berth as he settled beneath the covers with her. Though he kept himself still to avoid encroaching, it only made the slight tremble coming from her more apparent. "Love-"

"Don't. I'm fine."

He wanted to believe her, but he'd have hardly been invited into the bed had she felt fine. Rather than challenge her, he silently stretched his hand across the sheets. She grasped it immediately like it was a lifeline, though she wouldn't meet his eyes. No, she squeezed them shut as she cradled his hand close to her chest. "Sleep," he urged, not daring to move.

Her head relaxed into the pillow, only slightly. "Tell me a story?"

Lips curling, he settled into his own pillow, tucking his free arm beneath his head. Something about laying in the dark, warm under the covers, made him feel almost human; he certainly wouldn't enjoy it as much under other circumstances. "I could tell you any number of stories, perhaps show you the places I intend to take you one day. Rome?" She huffed quietly. "Paris." Her eyes fluttered but remained shut. With a gentle stroke of her wrist, his voice fell to a whisper. "Tokyo?"

At that, she finally looked at him. With a glassy depth behind her eyes, it was like she couldn't believe he was real. "Yeah," she breathed, "show me Tokyo."

He would spend the night carefully removed from her space, living in the lush garden he'd created for her dream long after she gave in to sleep. Come the morning, he'd slip back into his own bed and try not to think about the missing weight of her hand in his. 

For now, Klaus told her about the year he spent in Japan, about thirty years before she was even born. How different his life had been then; not once could he have imagined holding the rest of his life in this very bed.

Yet, there she was. He watched as she stubbornly fought the pull of slumber, her hand never twitching from his own. An absurd fondness overwhelmed him, and he swore to himself he'd do whatever necessary to keep her.

With the Ripper arriving in a few hours, that meant challenging her perception of what it meant to be a good vampire.


End file.
